


For Better or Worse

by glitterbb



Series: My Best Friend and My Brother [1]
Category: How to Get Away with Murder
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Eventual Smut, Fluff, M/M, Secret Relationship, Wedding Planning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-03
Updated: 2016-02-27
Packaged: 2018-05-04 15:39:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 20,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5339474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glitterbb/pseuds/glitterbb
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Helping Gemma organise her wedding provides Connor with an unexpected distraction.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I have a plan... bear with me and hopefully it shall materialise. 
> 
> Apologies for the terrible title. 
> 
> Thanks to [thelobster29](http://thelobster29.tumblr.com/) for all the help beta'ing!

As Friday nights went, Connor had had better. He downed the last of his drink and checked his watch. If he left now he was pretty sure he could make it to the nearest club and really get this night going. It had been a while, by his standards at least. With school, and work, he hadn’t been able to find much time to play, in person at least. Humpr had long since stopped giving him the thrills he was looking for. Too many clingy guys with too many issues looking for things Connor just wasn’t interested in. He wanted fun. No strings, just pure meaningless sex.

He leant against the bar, watching as the room mingled in front of him. Family members mixed with unfamiliar faces, laughing and joking, all of it false. Uncle Charlie danced across the room like his life depended on it, proof to everyone he should have stopped at least 3 beers ago. 

“Can I get you something?”

Connor turned, coming face to face with a set of sparkling blue eyes and a confident smirk. Blonde hair fell across his forehead in a heavy fringe. Young. Cute. Not Connor’s normal type at all, not that he was in a position to let that stop him. He allowed his lips to curl into an optimistic smile as he leant against the bar. 

“Jack on the rocks, please,” he purred softly. “And get one for yourself?” The boy let out a low chuckle.

“Very noble in a free bar.” He rolled his eyes, grabbing a glass from under the bar and turning to the optics. Connor shrugged, fumbling in his pockets for his phone. 

“Fine?” He mumbled. “But the offer still stands when you get off work?” He persisted, as the blonde slid the glass towards him across the bar. “What time do you get off work exactly?”

The blonde licked his lips playfully, Connor past caring just how desperate he was sounding. It had been a while, and this guy was more than tolerable for one night at least. That’s all any guy was tolerable for as far as Connor was concerned. A few hours and he never had to see him again. The guy leant across the bar, lowering his voice carefully. 

“I get off at midnight.” He whispered, a devilish glint in his eye. “Then my boyfriend is coming to pick me up, and we’ll probably go back to his and fuck like rabbits.” He teased, keeping his voice low. “I’m not interested.” He grinned, leaning back across the bar and smiling politely at a new customer further down the bar. 

Connor shook his head, his self pity deepening. A simple no would have sufficed. He sipped his drink slowly, turning back to the room, watching the party in full swing and wishing he could be anywhere but here. 

“Connor, I warned you about this.” The glass was whipped violently from his hands as he went to take another sip. “You’re not spending my engagement party standing at the side drowning your sorrows?” Gemma tutted, looking flustered by the occasion. “Get down there, find a member of Matt’s family and introduce yourself!” She hissed angrily. Connor grabbed his sisters wrist, rubbing his thumb soothingly over the back of her hand. He knew this side of her. He knew this was just stress.

“Actually, you look like you need this more than I do?” Connor sighed, picking up the whiskey glass and handing it back to her. She looked to her brother and back to the glass again before downing the remaining contents. “That bad, huh?” He smirked, taking the empty from her hands and sliding it back across the bar. 

“Everyone keeps asking about dates and venues and costs and I don’t even know where to start.” She sighed, playing subconsciously with the engagement ring sitting proudly on her ring finger. “It all feels so real all of a sudden?” She whispered quietly. “I have to organise a wedding, then I’m getting married, and then I’ll be someone’s wife?” She paused, her deep hazel eyes meeting Connor’s identical ones. “It’s so final!”

“Which is exactly why you won’t find me rushing to follow you anytime soon, no matter how hard mum tries.” Connor mused. “But you and Matt are so perfect together it’s kind of sickening,” he offered with a grin. “And seriously Gem, you’ve been together for, what? Six years now?” Gemma nodded, a smile playing on her lips. “You two are pretty much married anyway? This is just signing the paperwork.”

Gemma threw her arms around Connor’s neck, hugging her brother tightly. Despite all his bravado, and his complete fear of any commitment in his own love life, he still somehow knew exactly what to say to make her feel better. 

“I love you Con.” She mumbled into his shoulder, kissing his cheek softly. “But you still have to go and mingle.” She teased, punching him playfully in the shoulder, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear, hand coming to rest lightly on Connor’s shoulder. 

“Gemma, your boss is looking for you, I think she’s heading home?” A voice interrupted behind them. An anxious looking guy smiled kindly at them, glass of wine clasped in his right hand, eyes apologetic for breaking up the sibling moment. 

“Cheers Ollie.” Gemma mumbled, looking between the two men with a small smile. “Connor, you remember Oliver, right?” The new addition offering out his hand, Connor taking it and shaking it firmly, nodding in recognition. “He’s going to be my chief bridesman.” She grinned, slipping off to tend to her other guests. 

“Chief bridesman?!” Connor smirked. “Did you draw a short straw or something?” He caught the eye of the young barman again, holding up his empty glass to signal he needed a refill. 

“Don’t be mean!” Oliver mumbled, his eyes sparkling as he smiled, sliding on to the nearest bar stool and loosening his tie. He let out a long sigh, tension seemingly seeping from his shoulders immediately. “I was surprised she asked me actually? I thought you two were pretty close?”

Connor shook his head silently, holding up a hand.

“God no,” he croaked. “I mean, we’re close, but I’m happy just being an Usher.” He explained. A conversation had been had. Gemma, keen for her brother to lead her bridal party, Connor much keener to take a back seat and avoid any sort of responsibility. Something that came with much fewer consequences should anything go wrong. Turning on the charm and directing people to their seat was something Connor could achieve with ease. Sending out invitations and organising bachelorette parties had far more scope for disaster when juggling college work alongside. 

Oliver studied Connor, looking the younger man up and down, grinning to himself as he sipped from his wine glass. 

“What?”

“Nothing?” Oliver chuckled. “I’m just amazed you’re the same gawky teenager who used to hang around the kitchen when I came to stay at yours that summer?” 

“Gawky?!” Connor repeated, his voice higher than he’d intended it to come out. “I can guarantee I’ve never been anything other than painfully cool?” He pouted, a knowing smirk creeping across his lips. 

Oliver and Gemma had been close for a long time. Having met at college, they’d been close for a long time, and Oliver had been a frequent visitor to the Walsh’s house for various summers and other important events. Connor remembered him as a sweet, albeit nerdy guy. Quiet but polite, always eager to help. A skinny unassuming guy with a pair of large round coke bottle glasses permanently sliding down the bridge of his nose. Connor had barely paid him much attention at the time, the two of them exchanging less than a handful of words in the small amount of time they’d spent together in the past, but this guy sitting in front of him right now was different. This Oliver was intriguing to him.


	2. Chapter 2

He was dreaming. He had to be. In the week and a half since Gemma’s engagement party, Connor had been haunted by thoughts of his sister and wedding planning. Turning up naked, forgetting the rings, any number of unfortunate mishaps that resulted in the day culminating in tragedy and disaster, all someway or another caused by Connor himself.

“I know you’re in there Connor, open up.” The voice continued, the incessant hammering blending into the background as Connor pulled himself from his bed. Definitely not dreaming. He’d recognise that voice anywhere. 

“I’m coming.” He sighed heavily, dragging his feet as he crossed to the door. He wasn’t sure what the time was but he knew it was too early for this. “Come in, Gemma.” He groaned, pulling the door back, beckoning his sister inside. “To what do I owe this pleasure? Clearly it couldn’t wait until a more sociable hour?” Gemma stopped in the sitting room, hand on hip, face contorted into an unimpressed pout. 

“It’s 10:30am Connor. No prizes for guessing what you got up to last night.” She tutted, dropping down heavily on the couch, throwing her bag down on the coffee table, picking up a stray text book and leafing through it absent mindedly. “Is he still here?” She smirked. “Is he cute?” She peered hopefully towards the bedroom door, trying desperately to catch a glimpse of whoever might lurk on the other side. 

“Actually, I studied until 1am.” Connor grinned triumphantly. “I have a paper due tomorrow and I’m trying to fit in some LSAT practice as well.” He dropped down next to Gemma. “I wasn’t joking when I said I wanted to get into Middleton?” He rubbed his eyes, letting out a yawn for effect. 

Gemma sunk back in the sofa, combing her fingers through her hair as she smiled at her brother, eyes full of love and affection. 

“You’ll get there, Con,” She whispered. “You’ve had your heart set on it since you were a kid, and you usually know how to get what you want?”

“This isn’t hooking up with some hot guy in a bar though?” Connor sighed as Gemma rolled her eyes. 

“You say that like that’s the only thing you’re good at.” She chuckled. “Although your hosting skills leave a lot to be desired.” She stood up, making her way over to the kitchen, opening cupboard doors randomly, nosing at the contents. “Do you not have anything for guests to drink in here?” 

Connor stumbled to the kitchen behind her.

“I’m a student? There’s probably some cheap wine in the fridge? Some beers.” Gemma picked up the nearest cloth and threw it squarely at Connor’s head. 

“I’ll pass. I have things to do later so I can’t waste my day getting drunk with you.” She teased, sticking her tongue out.

Connor picked up the dishcloth, wringing it awkwardly between his hands. 

“So, you still didn’t answer my question? What is this visit in aid of?” 

Gemma sighed, stepping closer to her brother, leaning against the counter top. She looked up, eyes wide and innocent, smile plastered across her face. Connor knew that look all too well. His mum used it, Gemma was a master at it. Hell, he’d even used it himself a few times. It was tried and tested in the Walsh family. 

“I understand you not wanting to be in my bridal party,” She started slowly, trailing her fingers absent-mindedly along the counter top. “But you’re my brother? I want you to be involved in this wedding? I want you to be around, and help with the planning and preparation.” She paused. “I want to include you.”

Connor shook his head. They’d been through this before. 

“I have college work, Gemma. “

“I know!” She smiled. “But I’m only talking about little things?” She pushed past Connor, striding purposefully back towards the couch, rummaging through her bag, pulling out a box triumphantly. “Save the date cards?”

“You want people to actually turn up to this, right?” Connor plucked the box from her hands, inspecting the contents. “Isn’t this a maid of honour job?.... Or man of honour in your case?”

“Stop trying to convince me you’re incapable of basic tasks!” Gemma frowned, slinging her bag back on her shoulder. “Look, Oliver has the list of guests saved. Go see him, he’ll help you. Hold your hand, check your spelling, whatever other basic guidance you pretend your need.” She grabbed her phone. “I’ll text you his number and address, he’s expecting you?” She walked towards the door, Connor’s phone beeping on the table behind them. 

“Fine? I’ll do this, but if anything goes wrong, it’s on you?”

“It’s not going to go wrong Connor. Have a bit of faith in yourself for once?” Gemma tutted, letting herself out, allowing the door to slam shut in her wake. 

It was a full week, and three further threatening phone calls from Gemma later that Connor found himself standing outside the address his sister had texted him. Apartment 303 looked largely unassuming from the outside, but it was clear from the area that Oliver’s job must have paid well. 

Connor knocked quickly, leaning casually against the door frame, hearing rustling on the other side of the door. He straightened up as the door pulled back, an unfamiliar face staring back at him. 

The guy, not much older than he was, scurried past him quickly, not looking him in the face. Hair mussed, shirt buttoned up askew, jacket slung over his arm as he bolted for the stairwell. Connor smirked, looking through the open doorway spotting Oliver standing meekly inside, cheeks flushed a bright shade of red.

“Am I interrupting something?” Connor grinned, stepping inside the apartment cautiously, closing the door behind him. The apartment was nice. Small but homely, shelves adorned with random vases and sculptures, simple artwork on the walls. A studio apartment, yet still spacious. Luxury compared to Connor’s own student digs. 

Oliver shook his head, gathering up some papers from the coffee table. “Actually, you’re saving me,” He mumbled. “I thought he’d never leave.” He signalled towards the couch. “Have a seat, can I get you a coffee or something?” Connor sank down, peering around the apartment, still trying to gleam as much information about Oliver as he could from the surroundings.

“Yeah, coffee would be good if you’re making it?” He smiled, rummaging in his bag for Gemma’s invitations. “So is there trouble in paradise?” 

Oliver frowned, grabbing two mugs from the cupboard above the cooker. “How do you mean?” 

“Your boyfriend?” He paused. “Sorry, it’s none of my business?” Connor fidgeted awkwardly in his seat as Oliver’s lips twisted into a grin. 

“That wasn’t my boyfriend?” He giggled, pouring water into the coffee maker. “He didn’t know when to leave?” He smirked. “I mean, most one night stands at least have the decency to sneak out before I wake up but he didn’t seem to get the memo.” 

Connor chuckled, sliding his jacket from his shoulders and folding it neatly across the arm of the chair. “Oliver!” He yelped. “I never had you down as a love them and leave them kind of guy!”

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me?” The older man winked playfully. “So, your sister said you need help sending out these save the date cards?”

“Don’t change the subject!” Connor teased, climbing up and joining Oliver at the counter. “What’s your secret? IT nerd by day, high class escort by night?”

“I’m not a nerd!” Oliver pouted. “And YOU don’t get to slut shame me?” He chuckled. “I’ve heard all about your exploits from Gemma. Some of them are enough to make a hooker blush.” He grabbed a carton of milk from the fridge, fingers running nervously around the rim of the coffee mug nearest to him, willing the coffee to finish filtering.

“I’m not slut shaming you!” Connor held his hands up defensively. “I don’t care, I’m just trying to make conversation?” He wandered over to the nearest bookcase, running his fingers down the spines of the various tomes. Computer help books mixed in with various large, intense looking works of fiction that Connor didn’t even recognise, despite his years majoring in English Literature. “You read a lot?” He smiled. 

“Not so much anymore.” Oliver sighed, picking up the fully brewed pot, pouring the dark liquid into each mug, topping them up with milk. “Most of my spare time goes on Netflix now.” He held out a mug to Connor, the younger man thanking him, following behind as Oliver lead him back to the sofa. “They cost too much to throw out, but they look nice. Make me look smart to people who just drop by?” He winked, sipping tentatively from his mug. 

“I totally had you down as a book nerd?” Connor flopped down on the couch, sliding his mug onto the coffee table, casually folding his ankle across his knee, leaning back into the cushions. “You used to look like one?”

Oliver snorted, coffee spraying from between his lips, trying to capture it in his hand before he lost the entire contents of his mouth across his living room carpet. 

“Let me guess? The glasses?” He chuckled. “Try calling me a nerd synonym I haven’t heard before.” He smiled widely, the dimples in his cheeks revealing themselves, eyes sparkling so much Connor couldn’t help but grin back.

“They were a good look?” He laughed. “A strong look at least? Whatever happened to them?” He mused. Oliver shook his head, leaning forwards, lowering his voice. 

“A student can’t afford LASIK, but a graduate IT consultant can.” He looked down, his hand resting casually on Connor’s thigh, withdrawing it quickly, cheeks tingeing pink. He fidgeted, swallowing heavily. The epitome of awkward. “Uh...” He reached across the table for his laptop, flipping it open. “I have the list of people Gemma wants to invite saved on here somewhere.” He stuttered, refusing to look Connor in the eye. 

“They were cute?” Connor croaked, his voice low and leading, leaning in devilishly close. Oliver shifted away slightly, shaking his head. 

“Stop it.” The older man hissed, refusing to look away from the screen, tapping the keys quickly. Connor sat backwards, tutting loudly to himself.

“You’re no fun.” 

“Or, I just value your sister’s friendship?” Oliver shrugged. Connor burst into a cackle, beginning to question if they were still even talking about the same Gemma Walsh here. The pillar of virtue that Oliver seemed to be referring to, or the one Connor knew. The Gemma who spent the week after he came out relentlessly grilling him on what type of guys he liked. The Gemma who saved him the copy of Playgirl magazine her girlfriends bought her as a joke for her 21st. The same Gemma who reluctantly covered for him when he snuck off to meet his physics tutor for ‘extra credit’. But for all the interest his sister had shown in his love life, even Connor knew that Oliver was different. The one friend of hers that she’d never tried to set Connor up with, and he had to admit that the idea that the older man might in any way be off limits only served to make Connor want to flirt more. He’d never been one to shy away from a challenge, and what he wanted, he more often than not got. 

“Fine.” He eventually found himself sighing. “So who exactly has my sister got on this guest list?” He grabbed a pen and the first envelope, poised, ready to write.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is unbeta'd at the moment but I wanted to put something up before Xmas so I will edit any changes in later. Sorry for any spelling or grammar! Thanks to [thelobster29](http://thelobster29.tumblr.com/) & [Blink_Blue](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Blink_Blue/pseuds/Blink_Blue) for all your help!

Connor drummed impatiently on his knee, staring down at the display on his phone. He was beginning to feel desperate so god only knows what he sounded like. He pressed the call button, listening to the repetitive dial tone, before it gave way to the now all too familiar answer phone message. 

“Hey, it’s Oliver. I can’t get to the phone right now, but leave a message and I’ll get back to you.” Connor tutted. This was beginning to feel on purpose. It had been nearly two weeks and an awful lot of phone calls, and he still had yet to get through to Oliver in person.

“Hey Oliver, It’s Connor.” He tried to keep his voice as casual and laid back as possible given the circumstances. “Look, I feel like I maybe came on too strong the other day and I wondered if I could take you out for a drink sometime to apologise?” The line beeped to indicate another call coming in. “Just… call me and let me know okay?” He clicked the screen quickly, bringing the phone back to his ear. “’Lo” He mumbled, clicking his keys at his car.

“When are you going to learn not to argue with me?” Gemma drawled down the line, her voice dripping with smugness. 

“What have I done now?” Connor dropped his phone into the drinks holder and allowed his hands free to take over, Gemma’s voice now filling his car. 

“Well, I’ve had loads of messages thanking me for the save the date cards so I’m guessing you sent them just like I told you would be able to?” She giggled. “You can do the invites too if you want?” 

“No!” Connor interjected quickly, turning his key in the ignition, engine jumping into life. “Learn when to cut your losses.” He reversed from the parking space, trying to navigate his way from the parking lot. Lunchtime on campus always caused a mass exodus. “Besides, isn’t that supposed to be the job of the brides parents?”

“Exactly! You’d be doing mum a favour too?” She sighed, knowing she was fighting an uphill battle, as with everything related to trying to get Connor to do something he didn’t want to do. “Just think about it. We have a little while yet.” She paused. “Mum says you owe her.” 

“You’re with mum?”

“Yeah, we’re dress shopping?”

“Dress shopping?” Connor yelped, a convertible pulling into his path, causing him to hammer on the horn angrily, the driver flipping him the bird in response. “Your wedding isn’t for another nine months?!”

“It’s never too early to buy a dress, Connor. Besides, I’m trying to find Bridesmaids dresses and a suit for Oliver as well. There’s a lot to do and not much time and he’s not helping because he’s being picky.” Connor’s ears pricked up. 

“Oliver’s with you too?”

“Yeah, me, mum, Oliver and Sarah,” She paused. “Wanna join us? We could use another male perspective?” Connor smiled to himself. He had college work. Papers due in an insanely short amount of time, but this was too good an opportunity to turn down, almost fate-like. 

“Where are you?” He sighed, feigning exasperation. Gemma squealed down the line and Connor began to question at which point exactly his sister went full Carrie Bradshaw. 

“Meet us at the bridal boutique on Gordon Street. We’re heading over there now.”

“See you there.” Connor ended the call, pulling into the stream of traffic heading towards the town center. 

He never did chasing, the effort feeling like a waste of his time when there were plenty more fish in the sea. It was their loss after all, but Oliver felt different somehow. He felt he knew him, and yet felt like he wanted to know even more. Too often he settled for whoever came his way, personality a mere afterthought. Oliver, on the other hand, felt like a challenge. Someone on his wavelength who could give as good as he got. 

The drive to the bridal boutique took about twenty minutes from the college campus. Longer than usual thanks to the swell of lunchtime traffic on the roads. Connor pulled into a space outside the storefront and climbed out, peering through the gown filled windows. 

“Anything good?” Gemma’s voice giggled in his ear. Her arm hooked excitedly through his, a loose grin on her face. 

“I dunno.” He grinned, pecking her lightly on the cheek. “Plenty if you’re looking for something white. Anything else you seem out of luck.”

“Sounds perfect.” Gemma beamed, wandering to the door and pushing it open excitedly. 

“Connie!” The shrill voice behind him made him cringe, turning just in time to catch the older lady falling into his arms.

“Hey mum.” He groaned, hauling her to her feet, wrapping a supportive arm around her waist. “You look like you’ve been enjoying the complimentary champagne a bit too much?” He smiled, guiding her towards the door. 

“Dress shopping was never this much fun back in my day!” She whispered, although it came out as more of a husky shout. She stopped Connor, pulling him to face her, looking him up and down. “It’s been so long since I’ve seen you sweetie. You’re always so busy!” She patted his cheek. “How have you been?”

“I’m good, mum.” He sighed, guiding her down onto the small guest couch, lowering himself down beside her. “College is hectic, there’s a lot of work but I’m getting there.”

His mother smiled proudly, fidgeting closer to him, her hand clasping around his arm. 

“And is there anyone special I should know about?” She winked playfully. “These places do discounts the more you buy, so tell me now and we can get a good deal!” She offered, the sentiment less of a joke than Connor was all together comfortable with. 

“There’s no one, mum.” He mumbled bashfully, eyes catching Oliver’s across the room. The older man’s cheek’s tinged pink and he quickly turned back to inspecting dresses alongside Gemma, avoiding Connor’s gaze. “You’ll be the first to know when there is.” Connor’s mother’s head nodded onto her son’s shoulder. She exhaled dramatically, giving way to a tipsy smile. 

“There’s someone out there for you. I know it.” She whispered, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. She pulled herself to her feet, meandering unsteadily towards Gemma. 

Connor sat back, silently watching the room in front of him. Gemma pulled a long gown out of the rack, holding it up to her body, eliciting an ear piercing squeal from their mother, coaxing her towards the fitting room. As mother, daughter and the other bridesmaid disappeared into the back of the store, Connor stood, slowly approaching Oliver as he sorted through a rack of suit samples. He kept a small distance between them, not wanting to push his luck. He ran his finger lightly along the hangers. 

“What colour is she thinking?” He smiled. “For you, I mean?” A smile crept over Oliver’s lips. 

“I think she mentioned lavender.” He mumbled, pulling a black suit from the rack and holding it up. “Well… Waistcoat, tie and pocket square to match the girls’ dresses.” Oliver slid the hanger back on the rail and let out a low sigh. His eyes finally met Connor’s, cocking his head thoughtfully to the side, eyes narrowing as if sizing the younger man up. “Look, what exactly are you doing here Connor?” He hissed. 

“Gemma invited me?” 

Oliver rolled his eyes, shaking his head gently. 

“You know what I mean.” He argued. “The texts, the messages. You and me.” His words sped up, days worth of thoughts spilling from his lips at lightning speed. “I’m flattered, Connor, I really am.” He let out a frustrated groan, his head falling in his hand, clawing at his hair. “Your sister trusts me and she warned me about you and I just feel like…”

Connor crossed his arms defensively. 

“Wait. She warned you about me?” He frowned, fidgeting uneasily on his feet. Oliver’s face fell.

“I don’t mean…” His voice stuttered, a blush crawling across his cheeks as he turned a deep shade of pink. “She just gave me some advice when I asked her about you.” 

“What sort of advice?” Connor asked, irately. Usually the idea that Oliver had shown some interest in him would fill him with excitement and only serve to spur him on, but the knowledge that his sister might have in some way cast him in a negative light left a bad taste in his mouth. 

Oliver looked coyly over his shoulder, wringing his hands together as he contemplated the potential consequences of revealing what Gemma had told him. Connor stared at him expectantly, tapping his foot against the cheap carpet floor. He deserved the truth at least. An explanation.

“I believe her words were… Connor’s a great guy and I’d set you up myself if I wasn’t so sure he’d end up hurting you.” He sighed, his voice tailing off. Connor felt his stomach tightening as the words stung. “I’m sorry…” Oliver mumbled, his eyes trained on the floor, unable to look directly at the younger man as a tense silence hung in the air. 

“Just don’t.” Connor held his hands up, gritting his teeth. “I don’t know what I find more hurtful, Oliver. The fact that you think just because I flirted with you a little bit that I’m only interested in jumping straight into bed with you, or the fact that you clearly trust whatever Gemma has to say rather than taking the time to actually get to know me for yourself.” Oliver looked wracked with guilt, stepping closer to Connor, reaching out for his arm.

“Connor…”

Connor stepped away, unable to disguise his anger. This wasn’t supposed to be like this. This wasn’t how the Connor Walsh art of seduction usually panned out. 

“Look, Oliver.” He started, resigned to the fact he was fighting a losing battle. “I AM a good guy, and I admit, I’ve fucked up before and I’ve ended up hurting people.” He paused. “A lot of people.” He looked up, looking Oliver straight in the eye as if trying to stare him into submission. “I’m 22, Oliver, and I don’t think I’ve ever fully known exactly what it was I was looking for. I still don’t.” He shrugged, resigned to his fate. “I thought it might be you, but I’ll guess we’ll never find out?” He shook his head, a deep sigh escaping. “I’m going to take off. Just tell Gemma something came up?” He muttered, heading for the door, before Oliver had a chance to see his eyes watering so quickly. 

“Connor, wait…” Oliver called out, the slam of the door cutting him off.


	4. Chapter 4

Connor hammered his backspace key relentlessly. He knew exactly what he wanted to say, and yet the words were escaping him, a sentiment that was fast becoming the story of his life. He stared at the screen, suddenly realising just how unproductive the last three hours of his life had been.

He grabbed the beer bottle from the coffee table, swigging deeply, relaxing back into the couch and willing some sense to prevail from among the swirl of confusion currently occupying his brain.

Connor looked up cautiously as the sound of unsure knuckles rapping against his front door filled the apartment. He pushed himself to his feet, dropping the bottle back down on the table and ventured towards the door, pulling it back slowly to reveal Oliver on the other side, smiling back coyly.

“Hey…” He whispered softly, his cheeks showing off his dimples, hands shoved awkwardly into his pockets.

“Hey?” Connor frowned, unable to process exactly how he should react to his unexpected guest.

Silence fell, both looking at each other, waiting for the other to make the first move and cut the tension.

“Look, Connor” Oliver finally stuttered, a hopeful glint to his eye. “I’m sorry?” He croaked, letting out a deep sigh, hands gesturing through the fabric of his overcoat. “Can we maybe just, start again?” He pleaded. He took a deep breath holding out his hand. “Hi, I’m Oliver, I’m your sister’s chief bridesman.” His lips turned into a smile.

Connor looked from Oliver’s outstretched hand, to his face, unable to resist reciprocating the smirk.

“Come in.” He chuckled with a roll of his eyes, standing back and beckoning the older man inside. Oliver stepped in, pulling his jacket tighter around himself, hovering unsurely as he looked around the tiny student apartment. Connor grabbed a pile of books from the sofa and pushed down the lid of the laptop, scooping them all into his arms and stowing them away in the corner of the room. He gestured to the couch. “Have a seat.” He offered. “Can I get you anything? A beer or coffee or something.”

“Just sit, Connor.” Oliver smiled, shrugging his jacket from his shoulders and folding it neatly over the arm of the sofa. “I just want to talk.” Connor nodded, wringing his hands together, perching awkwardly in the space next to Oliver, the tense silence returning between the two men. “I think I owe you an apology.” Oliver eventually sighed.

“No..”

Oliver held his hands up, shaking his head, silencing Connor.

“No, you were right. I should have got to know you rather than just taking Gemma’s word for it.” He pursed his lips thoughtfully. “I just wanted to explain why.” He took a deep breath, Connor hanging on his every word. “I just got out of a serious relationship.” He mumbled. “I know that’s not an excuse but, I’m wary because I don’t want to get hurt again, not this quickly anyway.” Oliver played with the hem of his shirt, a long breath escaping as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. “I like you Connor.” He grinned. “And I want to get to know you better.” He paused. “I need to stop worrying about what everyone else thinks for once and do what I want.”

Connor licked his lips subconsciously, moving closer, his voice dropping, low and seductive.

“So, what exactly is it that you want?”

Oliver raised his eyebrows, chuckling to himself, moving closer, breath warm against Connor’s cheek. 

“You.” He purred with a coy giggle. 

Connor needed no more encouragement, swooping in and catching the older man’s lips between his own, kissing him fervently, fingers sliding across his cheek, clasping his jawline. Oliver let out a gentle moan, fingers threading around the back of Connor’s neck, pulling him in closer, deepening the kiss, wordlessly begging for more. 

“I thought you just wanted to talk.” Connor mumbled against the older man’s lips, hands caressing down Oliver’s neck, popping the first few buttons on his shirt. He sat forwards, pushing Oliver down, climbing above him, knees either side of the older man’s thighs.

“There’ll be plenty of time to talk later.” Oliver winked, pulling Connor down on top of him, fingertips tracing across his back, hips bucking in an attempt to gain some kind of friction between their denim clad crotches. He tugged on the hem of Connor’s sweater, pulling it up, wrestling to pull it fully over the other man’s head. “Help me!” Oliver descended into a fit of giggles as Connor sat up, pulling the top over his head in one swift movement, throwing it down to his side. 

“Better?”

Oliver nodded, staring at Connor’s naked torso, fingertips trailing over the shallow lines of his abs. Not as defined as they had been in the past but still visible none the less. Connor’s fingers nimbly worked on the few remaining buttons, flicking them open, allowing Oliver’s shirt to fall open, sucking in a long breath as he uncovered what was hidden underneath. Oliver frowned, eyebrows knitting together. 

“I was not expecting that.” Connor whispered, leaning back down, dotting kisses across Oliver’s collarbone, the skin turning red as he sucked a trail to mark where he’d been. His left hand cupped the other man’s cheek as his right snaked downwards, clawing at the denim of his jeans. 

“I’m full of surprises.” Oliver promised in a sultry voice, hand clasping Connor’s ass, pulling him down closer. “Where’s your bed?” He whispered. Connor climbed up, grabbing Oliver’s hand in his own, tugging him gently in the direction of his bedroom. It was nothing special, but it served a purpose. Wardrobe, a chest of drawers, two bedside tables and a double bed that had seen better days, albeit plenty of action in its time. Oliver lunged for Connor’s lips again, kissing him deeply and passionately, gripping the younger man’s jaw in the palms of his hands, tongue licking its way inside the warmth of Connor’s mouth. 

He pushed Connor backwards, finally grasping the opportunity to take charge, the pair of them falling down in a heap on the mattress. Oliver’s fingers clasped around Connor’s arms, pinning him down as he worked kisses down his naked torso, stopping just above his belt, sitting up on his lover’s thighs with a playful grin. 

“Don’t tease.” Connor gasped urgently, writhing with need underneath the older man. “I need you to touch me.” Oliver’s fingers laced around Connor’s belt, flipping the clasp and loosening it, never breaking eye contact.

* * *

The room fell silent, save for the sound of heightened breathing and content sighs as both men stared at the ceiling, coming down from their post-orgasmic high. Connor ran his fingers roughly through his hair unable to hide his smug grin. 

“That was…” he tailed off, unable to put his finger on the word he needed, his brain still hazy from the rush of endorphins. Oliver rolled towards him, propping himself up on his elbow, a dopey smile spreading across his lips, hair mussed up, falling in his eyes as he waited expectantly. 

“The best ever?” He teased. “All you ever wanted and more?” He let out a small yawn, tracing his index finger lightly across Connor’s bicep.

“Actually, I was going to say it was worth waiting for.” He whispered, curling his hand around Oliver’s neck, pulling him down and kissing him softly. He ran his thumb softly across the older man’s cheek. 

“Are you always this sweet after sex?” Oliver smirked, reaching up and wrapping his fingers around Connor’s, pulling them to his mouth and pressing a kiss to his knuckles. Connor smiled.

“No, usually I’m trying to find ways to shoo the guy out the door.” He sat up, swinging his legs from the bed, rummaging around for his boxers. A smile crept across his lips as he caught sight of them hooked on the shade of the floor lamp in the corner of the room. He padded over slowly, retrieving them and pulling them on, turning back to Oliver who was looking up at him expectantly, sheets pooled in his lap. “How do you take your coffee?”

“Oh, so I’m allowed to stay am I?” Oliver grinned. “I’m honoured.” He licked his lips slowly with a wry smile. “Black, two sugars.” He offered. Connor nodded, slipping from the door, leaving Oliver alone. 

Connor was unable to hide his grin as he placed the water on the stove. Oliver was different to other guys he’d been with before and it was a totally new experience for Connor. Casual sex had become the norm, a force of habit to fill the emptiness he felt and quell the loneliness that a goal oriented, career driven work ethic could bring upon him. He wanted to know Oliver though. Learn everything about him, both inside and out. Understand him. 

As Connor poured water between the two mugs, Oliver appeared in the doorway, trousers low on his hips, grabbing his shirt from the back of the couch, pulling it around his shoulders, absent mindedly buttoning the front as he approached the kitchenette. 

“Oh, so you’re running out on me now are you?” Connor pouted. “And after I so kindly said you could stay!” Oliver perched on the arm of the sofa, folding his arms across himself, poking his tongue out. “I thought we were going to talk?”

“I’m not running, I’m just getting ready to leave in an adult, civilised manner.” He tutted with a sarcastic roll of the eyes. “I’m meeting your sister for breakfast tomorrow.”

Connor spooned sugar in both mugs, stirring both thoroughly before carrying them over, holding one out to Oliver. He took it gratefully, blowing gently on the hot liquid before taking a cautious sip.

“Then call her and tell her to meet you here?” Connor suggested, cocking his left hip, drinking deeply from his own mug. “This place is closer to hers than yours anyway?”

Oliver’s lips curved into a small smile. He chuckled, pushing himself up and placing his mug on the coffee table before slowly stalking towards Connor, his hands grasped the younger man’s cheeks and he kissed him deeply. 

“We’re not telling Gemma.” He mumbled softly, staring into the hazel rimmed black hole of Connor’s eyes. “Not yet at least.” Connor let out a low sigh, scrunching his eyes closed. 

“Oh come on, It’s not a big deal!” He argued. “We can’t sneak around forever?” 

“No, and we won’t.” Oliver shrugged, picking his mug back up, cradling it in his hands. “But you know what Gemma’s like.” He grinned. “Tell her too soon and it won’t just be her wedding she’s planning. Is that what you really want?” He beamed victoriously, sipping from his mug again. 

Connor couldn’t resist a smirk in response. He leant a hip against the wall, raking a hand through his mussed up hair, a small shake of his head in defeat. 

“Fine. You have a point” He grinned. “But I take no responsibility if she finds out of her own accord.” Oliver stood up, grabbing his jacket from the sofa, sliding it over his shoulders. He pecked Connor lightly on the lips. 

“Agreed.” He grinned, making for the door. “Besides, sometimes a little bit of secrecy can be fun.” He winked suggestively. “I’ll call you.” He promised, slipping from the door smoothly, allowing it to click shut behind him.”

“Make sure you do.” Connor muttered to the empty room, heart feeling like it might burst out of his chest at any second.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for cutting out the good stuff, I'm a tease ;) 
> 
> I feel like I've kinda unintentionally flipped their characters a bit so Oliver's in control and Connor's a bit lovesick but hopefully it's not too off-putting :S (I think it's cos I'm a bit of a sucker for dom!Oliver)
> 
> Thank you to everyone that's been reading and leaving comments and kudos, it's much appreciated! :)


	5. Chapter 5

“Matt wants us to book The Swing Kings, apparently they played at his parent’s vow renewal a few years back, but I just want a DJ.” Gemma groaned, using her straw to swirl around her soda water, the ice creating a mini tornado inside the glass. “I mean, I know he’s been great and relented on so much, like the venue.” She paused, gently bringing the straw to her lips. “And the date. And the honeymoon.” She gritted her teeth. “But it’s a big part of the reception and I just want it to be perfect.”

“Just let him have the band!” Connor smirked, tapping on the screen of his phone. 

“But…”

“Come on Gemma. It clearly means a lot to the guy, and who cares who’s playing the music really? As long as they’re good, everyone will be too drunk to notice.” He looked up at his sister’s unimpressed face. “You don’t want a reputation as a bridezilla do you?”

Gemma kicked his shin swiftly under the table.

“I’m not a bridezilla, Connor!” She whined. “I’m only planning on doing this once so I want it to be just right.” She pouted, sipping her soda water again. Connor rolled his eyes.

“And I’m sure he’s only planning on doing it once as well, so just let him have his band!” Connor chuckled. He looked down as his phone vibrated against the wooden tabletop.

**Oliver:**  
_When you left this morning, you really could have taken your boxers with you…_

Connor grinned to himself, grabbing his phone away from prying eyes, holding it up towards his chest as Gemma peered curiously across the table.

“Who’s that?” Her eyes lit up as she grinned smugly. 

**Connor:**  
_Oh dear. Guess I’ll just have to come back over tonight to pick them up ;)_

He tapped the message out and clicked send before placing the phone back down on the table.

“That, is none of your business.” He winked, leaning back confidently in his chair. Gemma pouted, eyes burning into her brother’s, looking for some hint of answer.

“Bullshit.” She hissed, lunging across the table for the phone, Connor’s reflexes allowing him to grab it quicker and save it from her prying eyes. “Oh come on Connor!.” His older sister whined, giving him her perfected puppy dog eyes. He’d known her too long and they’d long since stopped having any kind of effect on him. “At least tell me his name!” She pleaded. “Is he hot?” She stared at the younger man. 

“Who says it’s a guy?” Connor shot back. “I do have friends that I don’t have sex with.”

“True, but you don’t grin like the cat that got the cream when you text them.” She paused, studying his face, immediately picking up on his diversion tactic. “And you’re not so secretive either! Come on Connor, we always agreed, no secrets.”

Connor sighed. It was true. He and Gemma had always been incredibly close for siblings, and they’d always shared every little detail of their private lives with each other. Nothing was too big, or too small. Nothing too embarrassing or personal to keep from one another. Every boyfriend, every one night stand, every relationship and every indiscretion. They’d shared them all and their relationship had grown stronger because of it. 

When it had become abundantly clear, aged six, that his father wasn’t going to offer much in the way of being a role model, Gemma had effortlessly stepped into the role, taking her younger brother under her wing, guiding him through life until he was old enough to make his own mistakes. Their closeness had remained though, and she was still Connor’s most trusted confidante.

Connor let out a deep breath, leaning back in his chair. 

“It’s just some fun” He mumbled. “Just a guy I met on Humpr.” He lied, drumming his fingers impatiently on the desk. Gemma grinned, leaning closer, her eyes wide and inquisitive. 

“But you’ve seen him more than once?” She quizzed. The waitress suddenly appeared at the side of their table, interrupting their conversation. Connor smiled politely, accepting the burger he’d ordered as the young girl slid a chicken salad in front of his sister. 

“Please don’t tell me you’re eating rabbit food already.” He mumbled, seeing the chance to divert the conversation and grabbing it with both hands. Gemma tutted, she was used to her brother being completely ignorant of just what it took to be a woman.

“My wedding is in 6 months time and I bought my dress a size too small. They can take it in, but they can’t let it out.” She rolled her eyes. “I know what you’re doing anyway. Don’t think you can trick me into letting you off the hook.” She stabbed her fork in her bowl, staring Connor in the eye. 

“I don’t know what you mean.” Connor shrugged, stuffing a fry in his mouth. 

“Tell me about this guy!” Gemma hissed. “It’s not like you to go back for second helpings.” She paused. “Not since Aiden anyway and we all know that was just out of convenience.” Connor gritted his teeth at the mention of his old flame’s name and tucked in to his meal.

Gemma had always had a pretty solid understanding of Connor’s sexuality. When he’d confided in her aged 14, she’d been as supportive as Connor could have hoped for. Giving him support and advice, researching ways to make him feel comfortable, and giving the the encouragement he needed to finally tell his mother, who’d been equally as amazing.

He’d never felt judged by his family, not even when he’d made his worst mistakes. They’d always allowed him to make them, and helped him to pick up the pieces, something he’d always tried to repay whenever he could. Despite all the constant, yet lighthearted ribbing about settling down and marrying, his family understood and accepted that commitment had never been something that came easily to Connor.

Commitment-phobe was a strong word, yet one Connor had had thrown in his face many times across the years. People had come close to breaking down his barriers, yet somehow, something always seemed to happen to throw a spanner in the works. Aiden had come closest. That was until he’d sat down with Connor a week before they left boarding school and soul-crushingly insisted that he was straight. He could still remember his words like they were yesterday, burnt painfully into his memory. “This thing isn’t real, Connor. It’s just fun. You know that, right?”

Connor had laughed, and agreed, and put on his best brave face until he’d finally broken down in the bathroom when everyone else was sleeping. That was when Connor had told himself never to get that close to someone again. It remained the one thing he’d never been truly honest with Gemma about, until now at least. 

“It’s nothing serious.” Connor insisted, bringing his fork to his mouth. “Just a guy I’m having some fun with.” He shrugged. “When have you ever known me turn down good sex?” He winked playfully, earning a roll of the eyes from his sister. 

“Let me find you someone serious for once.” Gemma moaned, an exaggerated pout across her lips. “There has to be someone special out there for you?” Connor sniggered, sipping from his drink, only serving to agitate his sister further. “Oh come on! You still get a plus one on your wedding invite.” She teased, voice low and playful. “You can’t be single at my wedding, Connor, I’m not allowing it!” 

“Do I get a say in any of this?”

“You get company for the whole day, a drinking buddy, someone to bitch with and guaranteed action when everyone turns in for the night. What is so awful about that?” Gemma waited expectantly.

Connor’s mind drifted to Oliver. Eight months felt a long way away, but Connor had to admit that none of those things sounded that bad. He wanted them and he wanted them with Oliver. 

“You’re grinning!” Gemma shrieked. “I knew it! I always said that despite everything you wanted domesticity.” She narrowed her eyes. “Admit it. You’re ready to try settling down.” 

Connor shook his head with a chuckle. 

“You’re turning into mum.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologise for the distinct lack of Oliver in this chapter :( I promise the next chapter will make up for it...
> 
> Sorry for any spelling/grammar/question mark mistakes :) (I'm an inquisitive person, what can I say?)
> 
> Any feedback is appreciated :) (Except maybe about the question marks because I'm starting to get a complex ;))


	6. Chapter 6

Connor clutched the bottle of wine tightly in one hand. Nothing too cheap, but the best he could afford on his student budget. This hallway was beginning to feel like a second home to him and being there still managed to ignite an excited flutter in his stomach.

The door pulled back, Oliver’s face grinning back at him. The older man reaching out wordlessly and grabbing Connor’s free hand, pulling him into the apartment quickly, allowing the door to click shut behind them. Their lips met in a quick, deep kiss, before Oliver pulled away, slinking towards the kitchen.

“Someone’s eager.” Connor purred, placing the bottle gently on the kitchen counter top before pulling his jacket off, throwing it across the couch. He kicked his shoes off, almost tripping in his haste to undress. Connor looked up, finally noticing Oliver wasn’t matching his enthusiasm, the older man grabbing glasses from the cabinet and placing them down next to the wine bottle. “What’s up?” He frowned, moving to join him. “Are we not……?” He tailed off, looking around the apartment. Freshly made bed, two places set for dinner at the counter. He nibbled on his lip. “Okay, you’re usually naked by now, what’s going on?” 

Oliver chuckled, grabbing the wine bottle and a corkscrew, turning it into the cork.

“Nothing’s going on.” He smiled, tugging on the corkscrew, the seal giving way with a loud pop. He poured the liquid equally between the two glasses, picking one up and taking a long gulp. Connor frowned, moving closer to take the spare glass for himself.

“Oh.” He looked around the apartment, eyes falling to the stove, suddenly registering the pots simmering away, the smell filling his nostrils. His eyes widened. “Oh!” He placed his glass down, moving closer to Oliver. “So when you said about me coming over for dinner, you actually meant to eat food?”

“What exactly does dinner usually mean to you?” Oliver smirked, turning back to the stove. He lifted a lid from one pot, dipping a spoon in and tasting the contents. He sucked his own tongue gently before giving a little nod and placing the lid back and dropping the spoon down on the counter.

“I never usually keep my clothes on long enough to find out.” Oliver snorted, unable to contain his laughter, rummaging around in the cupboards for plates. Connor smiled, sidling closer to the older man. “They say the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.” Oliver nodded.

“Well, I thought maybe I should try and get a bit further than just in your pants for once.” He turned, leaning in and pecking Connor’s lips quickly. “Go take a seat, it’s nearly ready.”

Connor slid into a stool at the counter, grinning excitedly. No guy had ever cooked for him before and if this meal tasted as good as it smelt he felt this first time wouldn’t disappoint.

“What are we having?”

“Chicken Adobo.” Oliver grinned proudly. “My grandma’s recipe. You better be hungry because there’s enough to feed the entire apartment block in here.”

“You’re trying to feed me up.” Connor winked.

“You’ll need your energy later.” Oliver shot back, playfully, grabbing a plate and beginning to spoon out food. He dished up both plates and carried them over, placing one down in front of Connor, and one opposite, taking the seat himself.

“So what do you want to know?” Connor smirked, picking up his fork, poised over his plate. He caught the glint in Oliver’s eye, the older man more interested in his food.

“I don’t know what you mean.” He mumbled, piling food onto his fork, bringing it to his mouth. Connor rolled his eyes, tucking into the meal in front of him.

“When someone you’re sleeping with makes you dinner, that usually means they want to get serious.” He mused, bringing his fork to his mouth. The food was good. In fact if Oliver’s cooking was always this good, Connor could definitely get used to this kind of set up.

“Or they’re hungry…” Oliver shrugged, face as innocent as ever, eyes still giving way to something deeper. Connor stopped, dropping his fork down.

“Just ask me what you want to know?” He hissed, a little more fiercely than he’d intended. Oliver looked up, finally meeting his stare, clearly taken aback by the outburst. Connor sighed. “I know you think I’m scared of showing emotion, but I’m not so…. ask me.”

“Fine.” Oliver nodded, dabbing at his mouth with his napkin, before taking a long sip from his wine. He cocked his head thoughtfully to the side, eyes narrowing. “I want to know you.” He mumbled. “We’ve been screwing for three months, Connor, I want to know more than where your prostate is and the fact you have a sensitive spot behind your earlobe.” He paused. “I want to understand you.” He licked his lips.

“Go for it.” Connor reiterated, holding his arms open.

“Who was your first?” Oliver finally grinned, digging his fork back into his food.

“First what?” Connor shot back. “Be more specific.” Oliver giggled. 

“Both.” He demanded, taking yet another sip of wine. Connor smiled. 

“My first kiss was Jessica Thomas.” He recalled, “I was 13 and going through my serious denial stage.” He shook his head. “Three weeks later I kissed our neighbour’s son, Cole and everything made so much more sense.” He chuckled. “We had a very fun summer together.” He teased, memory replaying their trysts in his treehouse in his head. 

“Was he your other first?” 

“Oh god no. He went off to high school and I suddenly wasn’t worthy of his time anymore.” Oliver leant forward in interest, listening to Connor’s story closely. “My first time was when I was 15. Eric Adams, at summer camp. I never heard from him again afterwards. Last I heard his parents had sent him to one of those places where they ‘pray the gay away’.” Oliver visibly shuddered. 

“Urgh, poor guy.” He croaked, stabbing a cube of chicken and scooping up some rice. “Sometimes I forget just how lucky I’ve actually been.” Connor nodded in agreement. 

“Tell me about your family.” He smiled, scraping around his plate to ensure he gathered up every last morsel. 

“They were great.” Oliver shrugged, standing up and grabbing the pan from the stove. He carried it back to the counter, offering around second portions which Connor gladly accepted. “My mum struggled when I first came out, but I think she was scared for me more than anything. I was her baby and people weren’t as accepting when I was a kid. My dad was pretty laid back, said he didn’t care as long as I was happy.”

“Do you have siblings?” 

“Older brother, younger sister. We’re not as close as you and Gemma are but we’ve always got on.” Oliver explained. “I have a niece too. That’ll be you next.” He winked. “Uncle Connor has a ring to it.” Connor nodded.

“I like kids.” He confessed, Oliver unable to hide the shocked expression from his face. 

“You surprise me!” Oliver downed the last dregs of his drink before refilling his glass. Connor lifted his glass, accepting more wine as well. “I never had you down as the child friendly type.”

“Kids are good.” Connor insisted, swigging from his glass. “Kids tell you what they think. They don’t bullshit to keep you happy. You can trust a kid.” Oliver giggled. 

“You clearly haven’t babysat a kid trying to avoid bedtime before.” He teased, setting his knife and fork down on his plate, leaning forwards. “You want kids?” He asked, eyes sparkling. 

“I suppose that depends on who I’m with.” Connor mused. “But yeah, I could definitely see myself as a father. I can’t be any worse than mine was.” He punctuated his sentence with a humourless laugh. 

An awkward silence descended. Oliver stood up, collecting both plates, carrying them to the sink. He filled the bowl with warm water, squeezing in washing up liquid, watching as the bubbles swirled around the dishes. 

“You can ask me about him.” Connor offered, gulping down more wine, his voice reduced to a resigned sigh.

“You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to.” Oliver muttered, sinking his hands in the warm suds. He’d gleamed odds and ends of the story from Gemma over the years. How their father was an ass and how Connor had taken it particularly hard. As much as he wanted to know the other man better, he never wanted to pry or reopen old wounds.

“He was great for the first few years. I couldn’t have asked for a better dad. Apparently he’d always wanted a son. Someone to take to football games and hang out with.” He paused. “Don’t get me wrong, he loved Gemma too but she was always a mummy’s girl. It was always her and mum and me and Dad.” Connor explained, as Oliver rummaged around in his freezer, producing a carton of mint chocolate chip and placing it down between them. Connor chuckled, picking up a spoon and scooping out the first mouthful. 

“So you were his favourite?” Oliver teased, helping himself to dessert. Connor shook his head with a snort. 

“I was five.” He continued with the story. “He came home from work one day in February and nothing seemed different. We had dinner, watched TV and he tucked me into bed like everything was normal. Then went downstairs and told my mum he’d been having an affair with his secretary for the past eighteen months and was leaving immediately. He was gone by the time I woke up the next morning.” 

Oliver raised his eyebrows, slightly taken a back by how matter of fact Connor seemed about the whole ordeal. 

“That must have been difficult to understand when you’re five?” Connor shrugged. 

“I didn’t really understand at first. To be honest I still don’t really understand how you can walk out on a family like that after all that time.” He spooned more ice cream into his mouth, leaning back on his stool. “It made me realise though. People lie. They lie and pretend to get what they want from you and they leave when you need them most.”

“Not everyone is like your dad, Connor.” Oliver offered. “Surely he tried to stay in touch?” Connor shook his head. 

“He started to. Visited a few times, took us out for ice cream, but none of it felt real anymore. He felt like a stranger. Someone who visited because he had to rather than because he wanted to.” He let out a low sigh. “He knew he’d fucked up, and he knew we both felt loyal to mum so he just… stopped trying. He has a new family now.”

“You have half siblings?” Oliver quizzed. Connor nodded, rubbing at the back of his neck. 

“Sam is 12 and Lucy is 9.” He pulled a face. “I’ve met them a few times, but it’s too awkward.” He mumbled. “It’s not their fault their dad’s an asshole.” 

“So that’s why you keep people at arms length?” Oliver smiled. “Hurt people before they hurt you. Don’t let anyone get too close?” Connor cocked his head to the side coyly.

“Something like that.” He shrugged, licking his spoon and dropping it down on the work surface. 

“Oh, that sounds like another story!” Oliver giggled, grabbing the lid and stuffing the carton back in his freezer 

“Yeah, and I think I’ve had enough therapy for one night.” Connor countered, grabbing Oliver’s wrist and pulling him close to his body, breath hot against his cheek, lips not quite making contact. 

“That’s a shame because they say sex is very therapeutic.” Oliver growled, catching Connor’s bottom lip between his teeth, arms wrapping around his neck. Connor’s hands coursed down to Oliver’s hips, lifting him up effortlessly, the older man’s legs wrapping around his waist with a giggle. Head bowed, foreheads touching, he kissed him softly, cupping his jawline in both hands. Connor stumbled forwards, making towards the bedroom, knocking into a cabinet as he passed it. “Careful!” Oliver yelped, arm darting out and grabbing a vase as it wobbled precariously. “That was a graduation present from my grandma.”

Connor stopped, eyebrows knitting together. 

“Long story.” Oliver mumbled. 

“You’ll have to tell me it some time when I’m not ready to fuck you into the mattress.” Connor hissed, stumbling forwards again, tripping into the bedroom and dropping Oliver down on the bed, staring down at him hungrily, licking his lips like a hunter stalking it’s prey. He unbuckled his belt, as Oliver pulled his own shirt over his head frantically, throwing it across the room quickly, before reaching up and pulling Connor down on top of him. They kissed deeply, Oliver’s fingers clawing in his hair, pulling him in closer.

“I’m not going anywhere Connor. You know that, right?” Oliver breathed softly, looking deep into Connor’s hazel eyes. 

“I know.” Connor smiled, entwining their fingers together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Un-beta'd so apologies for any mistakes.   
> Thank you to everyone who's still reading this <333


	7. Chapter 7

It was a new record. Four months. Sixteen whole weeks of sex with the same person and Connor still had yet to feel the tight grip of claustrophobia surround him. Usually one night was enough. In a best case scenario it took a fortnight until familiarity had bred contempt and Connor had given in to the itch to find a new person. A new plaything to keep himself occupied until the feeling returned.

It felt like a cliche but Oliver really was different. Since they’d had their heart to heart, Connor could definitely feel a change in their relationship. Everything finally felt like it revolved around more than just sex. Every meeting brought something different to the table rather than just descending into lust-fueled passion.

He was starting to enjoy the secrecy. No stress, no song and dance, no constant snooping from Gemma or his mother. Just two people, getting to know each other at their own pace.

Connor sat in the back of his Uber, watching as the familiar streets passed by outside the window, clutching the small wrapped giftbox in his lap. He didn’t get the chance to visit his mum’s house as much as he liked, so every visit he did make felt special in some way. When they finally pulled up, Connor felt a rush of excitement seeing his childhood home again. Both he and Gemma had suggested their mother downsize when they both moved out, but she was happy and settled and neither had the heart to force her. 

There was a happy bustle to the house as Connor entered. Every room filled with family and friends, some he recognised, some new faces. He peered around until a voice cut through the background buzz.

“Connor!” Gemma’s voice was unmistakable as she charged across the room to greet him, pulling him into a warm, tight hug, kissing his cheek softly. “I’m so glad you decided to come!” She cooed, pulling back and grabbing his wrist, dragging him through the crowd to the garden.

“I’m a student, Gem, I wouldn’t miss free food and drink. I’ve got to take what I can get” He teased. 

“Maybe you should have turned up on time then?” Gemma shot back, poking out her tongue as they stopped at a garden table, surrounded by filled seats. “Look who I found lurking in the corridor.” she announced, sliding into an empty chair and sipping from a half filled teacup.

“Connor!” His mother grinned, standing up to greet him, throwing her arms around him and hugging him tightly, rubbing his back soothingly as she always did. “I missed you sweetie.” She mumbled. “You look well.” She whispered. “Happier?” She narrowed her eyes, looking her son up and down, lips curving into a knowing smile. “What’s his name?”

“Mum!” Connor hissed, lowering his voice, cheeks tinging pink as her eyes lit up with excitement. “Not now.” He whined, sliding in to a spare chair, leaning over to kiss his grandma.

“Leave the poor boy alone, Laura.” His grandma scolded, giving Connor a wink. “Just concentrate on getting Gemma married before you start on him.” Connor chuckled. He was lucky to have such an understanding family.

“So what exactly do you do at a Bridal Shower?” He asked, shifting uncomfortably in his chair as people milled about around him. His grandma lifted a glass of champagne to her lips.

“So far there’s been loads of drinking, eating and girly screaming. I’m as in the dark as you, but as long as they keep topping up this champagne, I’m happy.” She chuckled. “But if your grandpa asks, I’ve been drinking tea all afternoon.”

“Your secret’s safe with me.” He grinned, turning to peer around the assembled faces. He knew Oliver was here somewhere. It was all the other man had spoken about for the past week, fretting over whether they’d have enough food and whether he’d invited all the right people. Not even Connor’s carefully crafted distraction techniques succeeded in calming him down.

“If you’re looking for guys to check out, you’re going to be sorely disappointed.” Gemma giggled, moving to an empty chair next to him.

“You guys do realise that I think about more than just who my next fuck is going to be, don’t you?” Connor shot back, with a roll of the eyes.

“I’ll believe it when I see it.” Gemma teased, with a smug smile. He bit his lip, inside bursting to tell her right there and then, anything to wipe the grin from her face. But this was her day, and Oliver had worked so hard that the last thing he wanted to do was cause a drama within five minutes of arriving. He sighed heavily, tapping on his knee to calm himself.

“I bought your present.” Connor mumbled, pushing the gift box along the table to his sister. “I hope you like it.” He added with a shrug. Gemma grinned, taking it and shaking it gently before tearing at the paper to reveal a small velvet box. She opened it slowly to reveal a small gold locket.

“Connor!” She grinned, taking it in her hand and pulling it open. Inside sat two tiny pictures, one of the pair of them as children, and one of them taken at their last family gathering.

“I know you wanted me to be up there with you when you got married, so I figured this would be second best.” He explained. “Plus mum said you were freaking out over which necklace to wear with your dress.” Gemma flung her arms around him silently, sniffing back tears.

“It’s perfect.” She beamed, pulling back, eyes filling with tears as she carefully tried to wipe them without smudging her make up. She bit her bottom lip, grabbing Connor’s hand and pulling him up. “Come with me.” She whispered, pulling him towards the kitchen. 

As they entered the room, Connor finally laid eyes on Oliver, leaning against the counter, gripping a bottle of beer. He chatted animatedly to a small group of women, Connor assumed them to be college friends. He swallowed hard as he looked his boyfriend up and down. Beige chinos sat snugly on his hips, whilst a well fitting shirt pulled comfortably across his chest, sleeves neatly rolled three quarters of the way up his arm. Oliver’s face lit up as he spoke, his laugh revealing his dimples to everyone. He looked up as he saw them coming towards them, feigning ignorance and smiling politely.

“Ollie, look at this locket Connor bought me!” Gemma yelped, holding it up excitedly, holding it out for the other man to inspect. He grinned as he flicked it open.

“It’s gorgeous, Gem.” He mumbled, handing it back to her and looking to Connor. “You clearly have a knack for picking presents!” He grinned. Gemma snorted.

“Actually, last Christmas Connor bought us all gifts from the garage so this is a nice surprise.” She chuckled. “Can you fix Connor up with a drink I have a surprise for him.” She squealed, darting off across the room.

Oliver grabbed a beer bottle, popping the cap and handing it to Connor with a wry smile.

“I owe you big time.” Connor muttered, turning away from the nearest group, keeping his voice low and inconspicuous. Oliver nodded, swigging from his bottle again.

“Yes, you do.” He teased. “And luckily for you I accept payment in blow jobs and sex” He winked, eyes sparkling with suggestion. “You’re gonna be on your knees for a long time.” He purred. A chill ran up Connor’s spine, his lips contorting into a smirk.

“I know that’s supposed to be a threat but I’m literally ready to take you up on it right here and now.” He sighed, bringing his bottle to his lips.

“Tomorrow night.” Oliver mumbled, nodding over Connor’s shoulder and moving away slightly. A hand slid on Connor’s shoulder and he turned to come face to face with the mischievous grin of his sister. A look that instantly made him panic.

“Oh god, What have you done?” Connor groaned, grimacing, a hand to his forehead, pre-empting that he wasn’t going to like what he was about to hear. Gemma’s eyes sparkled, her grin becoming manic.

“I know you say you hate it when I meddle, but after our conversation the other week, I got you a little present.” She beamed proudly, turning to the guy hovering awkwardly over her right shoulder. “Connor, this is Nathan.” She cooed. The man in question stepped forward. Tall, dark and brooding, like he’d wandered straight off the front cover of Men’s Health magazine. He offered a strong arm to Connor, large tribal tattoo poking underneath the sleeve of his tight fitting short sleeved shirt.

“Hey.” He greeted, voice low and calm, giving Connor the once over with a less than covert lick of the lips.

“Nathan is a personal trainer and he’s just moved to the area. I thought maybe you could show him around?” She winked suggestively, skirting around Connor to stand side by side with Oliver, who sported a bemused expression, teeth gritted. “Don’t you think they’d be cute together?” She gushed, bubbling with excitement.

Connor balled his fist in anger, stuck between willing the ground to swallow him up and wanting to blurt out the truth there and then. He looked between Gemma’s hopeful expression, and Oliver’s perturbed one.

“I guess you never know?” Oliver mumbled, unable to meet anyone’s eyeline, cheeks turning a deep shade of red. “Like you say, Connor’s full of surprises!” He garbled. “I’m going to go and check everyone outside has drinks.” He excused himself quickly, Gemma still oblivious to what she’d done. She looked between the pair, still grinning inanely.

“I’ll leave you guys to it.” She whispered, stalking off across the room, leaving Connor alone with the stranger beside him. He glanced at him. For all her bad judgement, Gemma definitely had good taste, and under any other circumstances he would definitely have been interested, but right now all he wanted was to go after Oliver and check he was okay.

“Sorry…” Connor finally mumbled, looking up into Nathan’s deep blue eyes. “I just wasn’t expecting this.” He sighed, unable to tear his eyes away from Oliver across the other side of the room.

“Yeah, your sister’s sweet but she can be a bit…” Nathan tailed off, unable to find the word.

“Intense?” Connor offered, trying to swallow his anger. He knew Gemma’s heart was in the right place, and he loved his sister dearly, and yet her relentless attempts to play cupid were beginning to wear thin.

“Does she do this a lot?” He smiled, drinking deeply from his beer bottle. Connor rolled his eyes, breaking in to a smile.

“You mean set me up with strangers?” He chuckled. “I’ve lost count.” He explained, slowly relaxing into the conversation. “I think she just wants to prove that she knows me. She won’t be happy until she’s found the one.” He sighed.

“So you haven’t caught wedding fever then?” He grinned, leaning casually against the counter. “This hasn’t made you want to rush down the aisle?” He teased.

“I’m 22.” Connor pouted. “I’m just about to finish college and I’m trying to get onto a prestigious law course with one of the top defense attorney’s around. Settling down isn’t even in my five year plan.” He lied. Up until recently that had been true, but since meeting Oliver, he’d began to rethink just how he’d envisaged his life turning out, and began to realise that maybe he could squeeze in a partner somewhere in the mix if he really wanted to. Someone to come home to, someone to let off steam with. Nathan nodded, lips cracking into a grin. 

The two men stood together, conversation flowing easily between the two of them as the party continued around them.

“So what exactly did Gemma tell you about me?” Connor finally asked, grabbing two more beer bottles and handing one to Nathan as people began to gather around to watch Gemma open her other gifts. The other man let out a snort.

“Not a lot. Just that you were hot and that I should meet you.” He paused, eyes perusing over Connor’s body once more. “She wasn’t lying.” 

“You’re a personal trainer. Admit it, you’re already mentally picking out my flaws.” Connor teased back. Nathan shook his head, wrapping his lips around the neck of his beer bottle

“I don’t go in for all that perfect body crap.” He shrugged. “Everyone has body hang ups, I just try and help them find a solution and feel good about themselves. Some people want bulky, toned and muscular. Some people just want to drop a few pounds before a big event. It makes no difference to me.” 

“As long as you’re getting paid you mean?” Nathan chuckled.

“Well, that’s your words not mine.” He rummaged around in his pocket before producing a business card. “Give me a call sometime. I’ll give you a free taster session.” He winked. “Maybe we can use it as a bonding exercise?”

Connor glanced up, Oliver walking towards him, brushing past his arm as he left the room. Connor stuffed the card in his pocket with a hurried nod. 

“I’ll call you.” He garbled. “Sorry, I just need to do something.” He apologised, sliding towards the door, following the direction Oliver had just left in. He looked around the empty hallway, not entirely sure where the older man had gone. 

A door opened behind him and Oliver emerged. Connor grabbed his arm, pulling him quickly towards the staircase and away from prying eyes. 

“Connor!” Oliver yelped, stumbling over his feet as he tried to keep up. Connor pulled him to the landing, pushing him inside the first door to the left and slamming it behind them. “People are going to wonder where I am.” He argued, making for the door, Connor blocking his path. 

“Then let them wonder.” He hissed. “I just…” He sighed, throwing his hands up in exasperation. “I just need to know you’re not pissed at me?” He pleaded. Oliver’s lips pulled into a smirk, crossing his arms, hip cocked.

“Oh you actually noticed me while you were flirting with your new boyfriend?” Oliver snapped, a teasing tone to his voice.

“I wasn’t flirting.” Connor groaned, stepping closer, cupping Oliver’s cheeks in his hands. “If you’d just let me tell her…”

“Oh so it’s my own fault now?” Oliver countered.

“That’s not what I meant!” Connor argued. “I was just talking to the guy, there’s nothing for you to worry about.”

“Can you blame me?!” Oliver mumbled, pushing out his bottom lip. “I mean look at him! Now I know why Gemma has never tried to set me up with you, she clearly doesn’t think I’m good enough.” He pouted. Connor held him, a smile creeping across his lips.

“I think it’s more a case of me not being good enough for you.” He reassured, rubbing his thumbs slowly across Oliver’s cheeks. “Besides, I’m not interested in him.” He promised, kissing his lips softly. Oliver relaxed in his embrace, his irritation seemingly melting away. “I’m sorry.” Connor muttered between kisses. Oliver pulled back with a smile. 

“I know,” he whispered softly, “It just sucks hearing everyone going on about how cute you two would be together like I’m fucking invisible.”

“You’re not invisible to me.” Connor purred. “Who cares what they say anyway. They don’t know what they’re talking about.” He pressed a chaste kiss to the tip of Oliver’s nose. “I’m the lucky one.”

“Keep talking…” Oliver pulled Connor closer.

“I can show you?” Connor offered, pushing him backwards towards the neatly made bed, eyes full of lust. 

“Just add it to the tab of things you owe me.” Oliver growled. “We’re not having sex while your mum and grandma and a roomful of strangers are downstairs.” He mumbled, pushing Connor away.

“So I’m forgiven?”

Oliver pondered for a moment as Connor nipped gently on his earlobe and down his jaw, trying to sway his decision. 

“I suppose so.” He breathed, curling his hand around Connor’s neck, pulling their lips together in a strong, passionate kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to anyone who's still reading this! I was planning to have it all finished by Feb 11th but it's been taking longer than I expected and I'm starting to get a bit of writers block D: 
> 
> Any comments and feedback are appreciated and again, apologies for any errors!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologise for the lameness of the smut you are about to read.... consider yourselves warned.

Connor grabbed the kettle from the stove, pouring hot water onto the coffee granules in the two mugs in front of him. The sun shone in through the window, filling Oliver’s apartment with light. The gentle sound of the older man’s snores came from the bedroom, Connor unable to stop smiling to himself. He felt at home here now. No longer a guest, he knew his way around the apartment with ease.

He'd contemplated letting Oliver sleep in, he figured he’d probably be needing it, but it was past 11 and Connor was up, dressed and beginning to grow impatient. He carried both mugs over to the bedroom, placing one down on the bedside table. Oliver stirred, rubbing his eyes with a long groan. His left eye cracked open with a squint, eyebrows knitting into a frown.

“What are you doing here?” He croaked, struggling to pull himself up on the mattress, rubbing at his forehead, the previous night clearly having left it’s mark. Connor smirked, walking around the bed and sinking down on the empty side.

“That’s charming, Ollie.” He grinned sarcastically, taking a sip from his mug. “Makes me feel really wanted.” Oliver looked around the room quickly before glancing back at Connor.

“Did we...?” He tailed off, not needing to finish the sentence. Connor’s face dropped, mortified at the suggestion.

“Give me some credit. I might be constantly horny but I do prefer it if the guy I’m sleeping with can walk in a straight line unaided.” He mumbled, a teasing smile playing across his lips. “Which you totally couldn’t, for the record.”

“Oh god.” Oliver whined, bringing his palm to his face, dragging it down to his chin. “I don’t even remember calling you.” He muttered. “I drank so many shots last night.”

“I figured as much when I stood watching you barf them back into the toilet bowl.” Connor offered, Oliver letting out a cry of despair in response, flopping back on the bed and pulling the duvet over his head. “I cleaned your toilet, by the way.” Connor announced, leaning closer and pulling the duvet back. He couldn’t help but giggle at Oliver’s mortified expression.

“I’m never drinking again.” Oliver muttered, hands firmly over his face.

“I somehow doubt that.” Connor chuckled, clawing his fingers through his already mussed up hair before taking another sip from his coffee mug. “Besides, you’re an adorable drunk.” He cooed, pressing a kiss to Oliver’s forehead.

“You’re not making me feel any better!” Oliver moaned, pulling himself up to sit back against the pillows again. “So much for a quiet, civilised Bachelorette party.”

“Relax, Ollie!” Connor beamed, snuggling in closer to his boyfriend. “So you got drunk, fell up the stairs on your way in here, threw up everywhere and clumsily tried to initiate sex with me. It’s not like you told me you loved me or anything.” He paused, “Oh, no. You did that too.” He burst into a fit of giggles as Oliver launched a pillow at his head.

“I hate you.” Oliver hissed through gritted teeth, his eyes giving away a playful sparkle.

“So come on.” Connor smiled, relaxing back on top of the duvet. “What exactly goes on at a Bachelorette party. Besides you making a drunken fool of yourself, obviously.” He poked his tongue out. Oliver shook his head with a chuckle.

“Surprisingly little actually.” He sighed. “Lots of drinking and gossiping and dancing like idiots.” He mumbled. “It was fun.”

“Sounds boring if you ask me.” Connor pouted, downing the last of his coffee and sliding the mug onto the bedside table. He turned, a mischievous grin spreading on his lips, and swung his leg across Oliver’s thighs, straddling him on top of the duvet cover. “You should have stayed here and I could have showed you a real good time.” He winked, grinding gently against the older man’s crotch, hands running up his chest.

“You’re only saying that because you didn’t see the stripper.” Oliver shot back, with a triumphant grin, pushing his thumbs under Connor’s loose white t-shirt so they could graze lightly over his hip bones, fingers sliding through the belt loops of his jeans. Connor paused, sitting back on his heels.

“There was a stripper?” He mumbled. “Why didn’t you tell me that?”

“There’s always a stripper at bacherlorette parties.” Oliver shrugged. “I didn’t think it was important.” His lips curved into a sly smile. “Are you jealous?”

“No!” Connor protested.

“You are!” Oliver smirked.

“I’m not jealous of some stupid stripper.” Connor hissed, sucking on his bottom lip. “Was he hot?”

Oliver giggled.

“He was on par with that guy at the Bridal Shower?” He offered. “All muscles, fake tan and baby oil.” He balled a fist in the front of Connor’s t-shirt, pulling their faces level. “Don’t worry, you have nothing to worry about.” He growled, kissing him gently.

“Damn right I don’t.” Connor smirked, kissing back, chasing Oliver’s lips. “I mean, if you want a guy who can look hot while ripping his clothes off then you need to look no further.” He held his arms out, presenting himself proudly. He leant in, breath warm against Oliver’s cheek. “Plus, I’ll let you touch.” He winked, sealing the promise with a long, leading kiss.

He grabbed Oliver’s hands, sliding backwards and pulling the older man with him as he stared teasingly into Oliver’s eyes. He climbed off the end of the bed, leaving Oliver perched awkwardly on the edge, bed hair falling in his eyes, lips pulled into a dopey grin.

“Are you actually going to do this?” He chuckled, pushing the duvet aside from his lap, revealing the evident stirrings of excitement beginning to strain against his boxer shorts. “Don’t you need some music or something?”

“You’re ruining the moment.” Connor hissed, smiling as seductively as he could manage, slowly gyrating his hips. He curled his fingers into the hem of his t-shirt, slowly pulling it over his head with a grin, casting it to the side of the room.

Oliver grinned, giggling to himself as the younger man moved awkwardly in front of him. He moved closer, turning around, grazing his sweat pant covered ass over Oliver’s lap. 

“Are you hard already?” Connor teased, turning around and placing his hands on Oliver’s knees.

“I just woke up.” Oliver groaned, attempting to catch Connor’s lips between his own but missing narrowly. Connor straightened up, swinging around again to an imaginary rhythm, pushing his ass out. He hooked his fingers in the waistband of his sweat pants, slowly pushing them down, revealing the milky white skin Oliver had become so accustomed to. “Is going commando becoming a habit of yours?” Connor grinned, turning back to face Oliver, moving closer, crowding him.

“To be fair, I didn’t have time to change when you called me last night?” Connor explained, indicating for Oliver to scoot backwards along the bed. “Besides, I like to work with easy access in mind.” He purred, crawling up the older man’s body, dropping kisses up his inner thigh, stopping at the waistband of his boxer shorts.

“Connor.” Oliver’s voice trembled slightly, his fingers wrapping gently around his lover’s wrist. Connor looked up, eyes wide. Oliver swallowed, breath heavy, eyes full of affection. “I meant what I said last night.” He whispered.

Connor’s stomach turned, chest pounding, lips twisting into a grin. Hearing those words come from Oliver’s lips in a drunken stupor had been one thing, but to hear it affirmed whilst sober sent his head into a spin. He crawled up Oliver’s body, bringing their faces in line with each other.

“Tell me again.” He smiled, heavy breaths from both men filling the air. Oliver’s eye’s wrinkled as he broke into a matching grin, fingers pushing Connor’s fringe from his eyes, before falling in a light grip around his neck.

“I love you.” Oliver clarified softly, pulling their lips together, their kiss soft and gentle yet laced with sincerity. “You’re the best decision I ever made.” He added with a whisper. Connor pounced, deepening their kiss, tongue licking inside Oliver’s mouth, fingers knotting in his hair, never wanting to be apart from him again.

Oliver grasped Connor’s ass, pulling him closer, pure want kicking in. Connor fumbled with the older man’s boxer shorts, unhooking them, his hand encircling his lover’s cock. Oliver bucked his hips at the touch, thrusting further into Connor’s fist, the needy groan only serving as music to the younger man’s ears. 

Their kisses grew more urgent, both enraptured by the feeling of the other’s skin against theirs, both needing to feel some kind of release. Oliver rummaged in the bedside drawer tossing a condom packet and lube in Connor’s direction.

He scrabbled around astride Oliver, preparing the older man as quickly yet as carefully as possible, hands trembling with want. As he finally lowered himself down, he was unable to fight the low guttural groan that escaped, every nerve ending feeling electrified as Oliver penetrated him.

Connor reached out, disorientated by the ecstasy he was experiencing. His fingers clasped Oliver’s right hand, lips searching out his collarbone, sucking a mark as he began to slowly build a rhythm.

Oliver’s spare hand gripped Connor’s hip, the younger man straightening up and pushing his hair from his face. The sight of his boyfriend riding him, the sunlight streaming across his naked body, lips parted, eyes half closed, body taken over by euphoric bliss was enough to push Oliver over the edge right there and then, but he wanted this to last. He wanted to savour every last second. 

The room filled with soft, contented moans as Connor made sure to put on a show.

“So good, Ollie.” He whined, rocking slowly, Oliver meeting him with calm, shallow thrusts upwards. “Gimme more.” He croaked, palming his own cock, his lips spreading into a knowing grin.

Oliver’s thrusts quickened, Connor speeding up his bounces to match the pace. Oliver’s hand grazed the outline of Connor’s ass, fingertips ghosting over the brunette’s inner thigh before coming to rest alongside Connor’s slow moving fist.

“You look so good.” Oliver whispered back, guiding Connor’s hand back and forth along his own erection. “Feels good.” He murmured, their eyes locked, sentences too much of an effort as endorphins flooded his brain.

“So close.” Connor moaned, his strokes quickening, trying to hurry along the feeling of bliss that he craved. He leant forwards again, stealing another kiss to muffle his obscene moans and save Oliver from the embarrassment of yet another complaint from the neighbours.

Their bodies moved in synchrony, lips and limbs tangled together in a mess of lust and passion, fingers still entwined as if their lives depended on it.

“Cum with me, Ollie” Connor begged, so unbelievably close, even he wasn’t sure how he was still holding on, every nerve ending electrified, every touch and thrust sending a shiver down his spine.

“Con.” Oliver whimpered, needing no explanation. He thrust hard and deep, letting out a strangled cry as his orgasm took over, gripping Connor’s hand even tighter as the younger man reached his climax too, collapsing forwards, breath heavy in Oliver’s ear, placing a lazy kiss to his cheek. “You okay?” Oliver managed to choke out, rubbing a thumb across his cheek. Connor responded with a tired looking smile, stealing another soft kiss before rolling into the empty side of the bed, pushing his now damp hair from his eyes. 

Oliver chuckled, sitting up and moving to the edge of the bed, stretching his arms with a yawn. 

“Oliver.” Connor’s voice was small yet firm, his fingers wrapping around Oliver’s wrist. The older man turned back with a frown, Connor looking deep into his eyes. “I love you too.” He grinned, bursting into giggles as Oliver bombarded him with a shower of excitable butterfly kisses.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the lovely comments people left on the last chapter :) I'm so happy to see people are enjoying it still. Only two more chapters left :(


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is kind of a bumper length chapter because it's effectively the last one.... except I've planned an epilogue because 10 chapters is a nice round number ;)

Oliver stood, looking sheepishly down the empty corridor. He was certain he’d seen Connor leave in this direction, and yet somehow he was nowhere to be seen. He stood in the hallway, contemplating returning to the party. This was a terrible idea anyway, and there was no doubt in his mind that someone would notice he was missing sooner rather than later.

He stood back, rummaging in his pocket for his phone when the hand reached out, grabbing his arm tightly, yanking him backwards into the dank, dark utility closet.

“You got my text then?” Connor purred, flicking the lock and turning back to face Oliver, his hands lightly grasping the older man’s hips, pulling their bodies closer together. Oliver smirked, allowing himself to melt into Connor’s touch. “You took your time?” He added, his lips ghosting over Oliver’s neck.

“I’m chief bridesman?” Oliver argued. “Hey, Gemma, I know it’s your wedding day, but your brother just sent me a suggestive picture of his dick so I’m out of here! Doesn’t really cut it as an excuse funnily enough?” He reasoned, allowing his hands to grasp Connor’s ass. 

“Spoilsport” Connor muttered, in between soft kisses to the older man’s jaw, gripping the lapels of his suit jacket in his fist. “That was a good picture?” He whispered, tilting Oliver’s head to reach the sensitive spot behind his ear. 

“Do you hear me complaining about the picture?” Oliver grinned. “Although you could have waited until after we’d eaten?” He teased, curling his fingers in Connor’s hair, pulling the younger man’s lips to his, kissing him deeply.

Connor smiled against the kiss, sliding his hands up Oliver’s suit jacket.

“I didn’t hear you complaining at the rehearsal dinner?” He pouted, pursing his already kiss swollen lips. “Or the morning after the Bachelorette party?” He paused, casting his mind back. “Infact you were pretty interested in my dick at the Bridal Shower too?” Oliver pressed a finger to Connor’s lips, shushing him forcefully. 

“I wasn’t the only one interested at the Bridal Shower.” Oliver teased, Connor gently kissing his fingertip.

“Yeah, but you’re the only one of my sister’s drunken friends I’m interested in.” He grinned proudly. “You’re the only one who actually got to see it?” He giggled, pulling Oliver’s lips back to his hungrily.

“Oh, well I’m honoured.” Oliver grinned, resting his forehead against Connor’s, their lips nipping at each other, the minimal space between them still too far. “I can’t be too long, she’ll notice I’m gone.” He sighed apologetically. Connor rolled his eyes with a low groan, pulling away.

“Or, we could just tell her and stop all this stupid sneaking around?” He suggested, clearly agitated. Oliver pulled back, eyebrows knitted together.

“Today’s not really the day Connor.” He sighed, leaning against the dirty looking wall. “This is her day.” He mumbled, twiddling his fingers together. Connor gritted his teeth together, balling his fists.

“When is ever going to be the right time?” he hissed angrily, hammering his fist onto the wall. “It’s been nine months Oliver? Nine months of running around hiding when we have nothing to be ashamed of?” He told him, his tone pointed, beginning to pace slightly in the confined space. “Do you not get it? You’re the most important thing in my life at the moment. The best thing that’s happened to me in a long time, and I can’t share it with the people I care about.”

“I’m her friend…” Oliver tailed off.

“You’re a grown adult!” Connor argued. “And so am I! I can sleep with who I want, when I want and I don’t need permission from my sister. What happened to you doing what you wanted?” Oliver tutted, folding his arms defensively across his body.

“Today isn’t about you, Connor. It’s not about us. It’s about Gemma and Matt.” He sighed heavily. “We’ve waited this long, why can’t we wait until she gets back from her Honeymoon?”

Connor stood still, shaking his head slightly with a frown.

“Are you ashamed of me or something?” He spat, face contorted in anger, jabbing an accusatory finger in Oliver’s direction.

“What!” Oliver yelped.

“Well come on, everyone knows I’m a slut.” Connor let out a troubled laugh. “But you? You’re perfect, sweet, well behaved little Oliver. You wouldn’t want me to ruin your reputation, would you?”

“You’re being ridiculous, Connor.” Oliver groaned. “How much have you had to drink?”

“I’m not drunk, Oliver.” Connor argued, exasperated, leaning against the shelving unit filled with various cleaning supplies. “Just admit it. I’m not good enough for you, am I?”

“Yes, Connor. Yes, that’s exactly it, is that what you want to hear?” Oliver yelled back, his demeanour cracking, throwing his arms up in the air. “This is fucking ridiculous.” He muttered, making for the door, stopping with a hand on the handle. “This is what I was scared of.” Oliver hissed. “I was scared of you sabotaging everything so you have an excuse to run away, just like you always do.” He shook his head sadly. “I didn’t want to put my friendship on the line just for you to go and fuck everything up. Talk to me again when you’ve grown up.” He snapped, pulling the door open and slamming it again behind him.

Connor instinctively kicked the nearest wall, not caring about the long black scuff his dress shoes left along the peeling paintwork. “Fuck!” he shouted, not caring who could hear him. Oliver was right. Yet again he’d let his own insecurities get in the way of a good thing, and now, he’d ruined the best thing that had happened to him in a long time. His eyes stung and he wiped them quickly before tears could spill out. He flung the door open, ignoring the confused stare of the couple walking down the corridor, marching purposefully towards the bar. 

“Double bourbon, neat.” Connor snarled as he slid onto the nearest bar stool, rubbing his face, dragging his fingers through his hair. The barman slid the glass down in front of him, making no comment as Connor knocked it back in one gulp. The warm liquid burnt as it coursed down his throat, instantly numbing some of the pain. “Same again.” He commanded, shaking the empty glass at the bemused barman. “I’m not drunk enough.” He explained as the young man refilled his glass, placing it back in front of him.

“How did I know I’d find you here?” Gemma’s voice was unmistakable as she sidled up beside him, maneuvering her long white gown to climb on the bar stool next to Connor’s, rejecting the barman’s offer of a drink with a polite shake of the head.

Connor smiled, letting out a soft sigh. “You know me, never far from a free bar!” He shrugged, holding up his glass in a mock toast, sipping the liquor slowly now he had company. He looked his sister up and down. Beautiful, radiant and completely unruffled by the events of the day.”Congratulations sis.” He added sincerely, placing a hand on her arm. “I’m happy for you.”

Gemma held out her hand, inspecting the wedding band now sitting snugly around her ring finger.

“It’s so strange. I mean, it’s just a ring, but it signifies so much. Like I’m a new woman.” She looked to Connor. “Well I guess I am?” She shrugged. “Now I’m Mrs. Jones.” 

“You’ll still be my bossy big sister.” Connor teased with a chuckle.

“And you’ll still be my slutty little brother.” She grinned back with a playful nudge. Connor nodded, albeit silently. One day he’d be able to tell her how much that hurt, but not today. “So you decided to fly solo after all?” She teased. “Was Nathan not up to standard or something?” Connor sipped his drink deeply again, bringing his head down, clawing at the back of his neck.

“I think I’m off men.” He sighed, peering into the bottom of his glass.

“I’ll believe that when I see it.” Gemma snorted.

“I’m serious.” Connor insisted, flat expression on his face. “I think I just need some time to myself.” He shrugged. “Grow up a bit. Figure out what I want.” He mumbled, Oliver’s words still ringing in his ears. Gemma frowned, leaning closer, her features softening with genuine concern.

“Hey, what’s brought this on?” She murmured.

Connor looked up, turning in his chair slightly, eyes scanning the room. His eyes fell on Oliver standing at the edge of the dance floor, chatting to a small group of guests, drink clutched in hand. If he was feeling any pain, he certainly wasn’t showing it.

“It’s nothing.” He lied. “Just seeing you walking down the aisle. It made me realise, I have to learn to stand on my own two feet. I can’t keep relying on you to clean up my mess. You’ll have your own kids you have to worry about.” He shrugged. As the words left his lips he was struck with just how truthful they actually were. When he’d had Oliver it hadn’t felt quite as daunting, but now he faced the prospect of having no one to turn to.

“Shut up Connor.” Gemma tutted, reaching out and taking his hand. “I’ll always be here for you, regardless of whether I have a husband or kids, or grandkids!” She promised sincerely. “You don’t get rid of me that easily.” She winked, leaning in and pulling him into a tight hug, rubbing his back gently.

“Gemma, they want to do the first dance now.” Matt appeared behind his new wife, smiling apologetically at his new brother-in-law. Connor nodded, pulling away from Gemma.

“You gonna be okay?” Gemma asked softly. Connor nodded.

“I’m fine!” He grinned. “Go enjoy your day.” Gemma leant down and kissed his cheek, giving him a sympathetic smile as she was led away towards the dance floor. he tipped his glass back, gulping down the last of his drink.

“Another one?” The barman asked, wiping down the bar and picking up the empty glass. Connor shook his head, jumping down from the stool and heading out towards the open patio doors, grabbing a bottle of champagne from a nearby table as he left. Watching other people flaunting their happiness was the last thing he needed right now.

The early evening air was warm, but a light breeze blew through, rustling the leaves on the trees. Connor walked down the large garden towards the lake that sat quietly in the hotel grounds, sinking down on the large jetty, taking a long swig from the bottle in his hands.

Connor had never intended for his life to be like this. When he was younger he’d had all the cliched ideas of growing up, getting a job, a wife, two kids and a nice house in the suburbs. It was what was drilled into kids at a young age. Being gay had never felt like a struggle or a chore. In fact Connor knew just how lucky he’d been compared to others. He’d never had one cataclysmic event where he’d realised his sexuality, just a slow, steady journey of coming to terms with the inevitable fact.

He’d always longed to find a connection to someone. No strings sex was fun, and Connor had got detaching his emotions down to a fine art ever since Aiden had broken his heart all those years ago. That one incident had scarred him for life, leaving him unwilling to give his heart so unconditionally to anyone ever again.

Oliver had changed that though. Oliver was so much more than a lover. He was a friend, a confidante. He trusted Oliver, something he hadn’t been able to do with a guy for so long. His dad had damaged his ability to trust, and Aiden had taken the remains and trampled all over them, but Oliver had shown him he had nothing to be afraid of. Oliver had given him hope that he could change.

He took another long swig from the champagne bottle, placing it down beside him. Before Oliver, he’d started to believe that maybe he’d never find someone. Maybe that he was destined to become some kind of lounge lizard, frequenting bars and leering over guys much younger than himself, but now his outlook had changed. Now he could see a future with marriage and babies. A family life.

Connor needed Oliver. He needed to make this right. He climbed up, jogging back towards the party, strains of I’m Yours filling the air. As he reached the party, bodies milled about on the dance floor, shuffling awkwardly in time with the music. He scoured the crowd quickly, eyes falling to Oliver laughing and dancing across the other side of the room. Laughing and dancing with his arms slung loosely around the neck of another man.

A red mist descended , Connor pushing his way angrily across the dance floor, elbowing disgruntled guests out of the way as he passed.

Then he saw it. The whisper in the ear, the other guy’s hands move from the small of Oliver’s back down lower, groping suggestively at his ass. The move. The other guys lips pressed forcefully to Oliver’s, full of desire for something more.

It was like an out of body experience, Connor a mere spectator as he grabbed the stranger, fist connecting with his nose with a loud, horrifying crack. The man fell to the floor, clutching his face as the room fell into a horrified silence.

“Connor, what the hell are you doing?!” Oliver yelled, staring at Connor in disbelief, before kneeling down to check on the man, as others crowded around to come to his aid. Connor stood, frozen, clenching his fist, becoming overly aware of the growing pairs of eyes on him.

“Connor?” He turned slowly, Gemma standing next to him, looking at the sight in front of her, a mix of sadness and shock in her eyes.

“I’m sorry.” He muttered, stepping backwards, before turning on his heel and running as fast as he could. Away from the prying eyes, away from what he’d done, and away from the fact that he’d managed to ruin the most important day of Gemma’s life.

He ran down the sprawling corridors of the hotel, trying to remember the route back to his room, wiping the tears stinging the rims of his eyes. 

“Connor, wait!” Oliver’s unmistakable voice called down the corridor after him.

“Just leave me alone, Oliver.” The younger man hissed, quickening his pace. “I have nothing to say to you.”

“Are you kidding me?” He snapped. “I tell you to grow up and you go and do something ridiculous like that?” Connor stopped, turning on his heel.

“You broke up with me, remember? Why should I worry about what you have to say?” Connor spat with a shake of the head, reaching in his pocket and pulling out his hotel room door key. “Just go back to your boytoy. I think I broke his nose.” Connor turned back to the door, pushing it open. He felt a sharp tug on his arm as Oliver bundled him in to the room, slamming the door closed behind the pair of them.

“I never broke up with you Connor. We had a fight!” He hissed. Connor meandered across the room, flopping down on the bed. ”Look at the state of you.” He fussed, wringing his hands together in despair. “You need to sober up.” He sighed, peering into the bathroom. He grabbed a glass from the side and filled it with water before thrusting it into Connor’s hands. “Drink this.” He demanded.

“You kissed him.” Connor muttered, sipping gingerly from the glass, breaking the awkward silence that seemed to have descended in the room. 

“No.” Oliver countered calmly. “He kissed me, and if you’d waited two minutes before jumping in fist first then you’d have seen me tell the creep to keep his hands to himself.” He explained, looming menacingly over Connor, hands on hips.

“Why were you even dancing with him?” Connor pouted. Oliver folded his arms across his body, fidgeting awkwardly.

“I was mad at you.” He snapped with a sigh. “I wanted to….” He tailed off, cheeks turning pink. “I wanted to make you jealous.” He mumbled. “Looks like I succeeded as well.”

“Connor!” A voice yelled outside the hotel room door, accompanied by an angry hammering. “Connor. I know you’re in there.” The two men exchanged knowing glances. 

“Fuck.” Connor groaned, rubbing his forehead. “Let her in.” He croaked, gesturing to the door as he desperately eyed up the window, wondering if he could somehow escape with no one noticing. 

Oliver crossed the room slowly, placing his hand on the handle as the door vibrated with violent knocks. He pulled the door back, Gemma barging him out of the way, storming towards her brother, fury etched clearly across her face.

“You have ten seconds to give me one good reason as to why you think it’s okay to turn up to my wedding and start assaulting my guests?” She screamed, face now beetroot red.

“I’m sorry.” Connor offered, somewhat meekly.

“Sorry, doesn’t change the fact that my husband’s cousin is on his way to the Emergency Room, and all my guests are talking about you on my wedding day.” She muttered. “You’ve done some fucked up shit in your time Connor, but this one really outdoes the rest.” She began to pace slightly, gripping the skirt of her gown tightly. “Is this about me? Are you trying to get back at me or something?”

“No!” Connor yelped, jumping to his feet. “God, no, Gemma.” His mind raced, trying desperately to invent some kind of believable story. “Listen…” He started unsurely, grabbing Gemma’s hands and forcing her to look at him.

“It’s my fault.” Both siblings spun around as Oliver stood awkwardly to the side. Gemma frowned, looking to Connor then back to Oliver again.

“What?” She mumbled. Oliver took a deep breath.

“All of this. It’s all my fault.” He reiterated.

“I…I don’t understand?” Gemma stuttered, pulling her hands from Connor’s grasp. Connor stared questioningly, eyebrows raised.

“Oliver, you don’t have to do this?” He offered. “It’s my fault. I punched the guy.” He stepped closer to Oliver, leaving Gemma in the background.

“No, you were right?” Oliver sighed. “I’m tired of all this now. This running and hiding and pretending. I was thinking about myself and how all of this would effect me, and I guess I never really stopped to think about how it was affecting you.” He paused, looking deep into Connor’s mesmerising hazel eyes. “I never should have said those things earlier, I never should have tried to make you jealous, and I never should have tried to stop you sharing your happiness with your family?” He shrugged. Connor’s face split into the widest grin and he resisted the urge to rush forwards and scoop Oliver into his arms. “So tell her?!” Oliver urged with a coy smile on his face.

“Yes, will someone PLEASE explain to me what the hell I’m missing here.” Gemma demanded impatiently behind the pair of them. Connor turned.

“I have a boyfriend, Gem.” He grinned, taking Oliver’s hand in his own, pulling them side by side.

Gemma looked between the two of them, clearly torn between what to say or what to do. Connor exchanged an anxious glance with Oliver, both slightly concerned by her lack of immediate reaction.

“I know this is the worst timing ever, and the last thing we wanted to do was to ruin your day.” Oliver blurted out.

“Oh shut up.” Gemma muttered, rushing forwards and slinging her arms around the pair of them, pulling both into an awkward group hug. “Why didn’t you tell me?!” She gasped, Connor sure he could see a tear or two welling up in her eyes.

“You’ve set Connor up with pretty much every other male friend we have. I just presumed it was a no go?” Oliver blushed.

“I never set you up because I didn’t think the two of you had anything in common!” Gemma explained, a soppy grin taking over. “I’m so happy for you.” She sighed. “And now I owe mum fifty bucks” She groaned.

“Hang on, what?” Connor butted in. Gemma chuckled, placing a hand on his arm.

“Mum bet me fifty bucks that you were seeing someone. I said there was no way because you’d have told me. I guess that mother’s intuition thing really does work?”

“Unbelievable.” Connor muttered, Oliver placing a hand in the small of his back.

“Look. I need to go and check Simon’s okay.” Gemma explained. “But we’re sitting down tomorrow after breakfast and you two are giving me every last detail.” She winked, making towards the door. “Actually this has worked out pretty well.” She grinned, pausing in the corridor. “Matt’s Grandparents need a place to stay and the hotel is booked out. So presuming you two have some making up to do and Connor won’t be using his room, they can have that one?” She beamed. “Keep the noise down.” She winked playfully, disappearing back to the party.

Connor shook his head, dropping down on the bed again, Oliver joining him, clutching his hand tightly and pressing a kiss to his cheek. 

“I’m sorry.” Oliver mumbled softly, nuzzling into him softly, taking in the smell of his cologne mixed with the lingering liquor on Connor’s breath. “You were right, we should have done that ages ago.” He whispered. “Then maybe today wouldn’t have turned out like this.”

“Actually she took that even better than I was expecting.” Connor admitted, curling an arm around Oliver’s waist. “Maybe she’s more drunk than I realised?”

“Oh, no. She’s not drinking. She told me she wanted to remember her wedding night.” Oliver giggled as Connor’s face was unable to hide his disgust. 

“Oh god. That’s definitely an image I didn’t need right now.” He groaned, turning his head and catching Oliver’s lip’s between his own, his fingers sliding along the older man’s jaw to knot loosely in Oliver’s hair. 

“Let me give you something to take your mind off of it then” Oliver purred, pushing Connor backwards and swinging his leg confidently over his boyfriend’s hips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone for reading and thanks to [Blink_Blue](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Blink_Blue/pseuds/Blink_Blue) for all the help and advice ;) 
> 
> Any feedback or comments would be awesome!


	10. Epilogue

Connor stood silently, staring at the work surface. His heart pounded in his chest as the innocent looking envelope sat, staring back at him. Taunting him almost. He drummed his fingers against the marble top before tapping it frustratedly with his fist. 

“Gemma called.” Oliver mumbled as he rounded the corner from the bedroom, trying to attach his watch around his wrist. “Asked if we could have Lily on Saturday night.” He carried on into the kitchen and pulled open the fridge. “She said her and Matt have ‘special business to attend to’” He smirked, fingers making air quote signs. “She’s clearly pregnant again.” He mused as he poured a glass of juice. 

Connor stared blankly at the counter top, ignoring Oliver’s comments, clearly in a world of his own. 

“Connor? Did you hear me?” He frowned. 

“Uh, yeah, babysitting Lily. It’s fine.” He muttered, shaking his head and looking up at Oliver in a daze. Oliver shook his head.

“I said I think your sister is pregnant?” He repeated. “She wasn’t drinking at your mum’s birthday the other week, and you know she never turns down champagne.” He paused, moving to stand next to Connor. “Con?” He waved a hand in front of the younger man’s face, Connor finally seeming to snap back to reality.

“Sorry.” He groaned, rubbing his forehead roughly, pushing the envelope across the counter away from him. 

“What’s that?” Oliver asked, cocking his head to study his boyfriend’s troubled expression. He reached a hand out, lightly cupping the small of Connor’s back. He could tell by now when the younger man was in need of some gentle support. Connor sighed, turning to face Oliver with a grateful smile.

“That.” He started, pointing at the A4 brown envelope. “Is the results of my bar exam.” He explained, leaning on the counter anxiously. 

“Oh Con.” Oliver whispered. “Why didn’t you tell me?” He paused. “Is this why you’ve been such a grouch for the last week?” Connor chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. 

“You noticed that then?” He muttered. Oliver rolled his eyes. The last few days had been a nightmare. Connor skulking around the apartment, picking fault at everything, while Oliver tiptoed around, walking on eggshells, trying to avoid the inevitable fight Connor was clearly spoiling for. Five years together had taught them a lot about each other, and Oliver had learnt when his boyfriend just needed some space. 

“You snapped at me for breathing funny. Of course I noticed.” He tutted before throwing his arm around Connor’s shoulders, pulling him close with a gentle kiss to his temple. 

“I’m sorry,” Connor sighed. “I knew it was soon, I just didn’t know when.” He explained, nestling into the crook of Oliver’s arm, the older man pressing another forgiving kiss to his hairline. 

“So, why haven’t you opened it?” Oliver finally asked, breaking the silence that had descended. Connor groaned, pulling away and grabbing the envelope in his hands. He held it up, fingers trembling over the flap, before slamming it back down again quickly.

“I can’t.” He hissed, running his hands roughly through his hair, pacing back and forth across the kitchen floor. “The contents of this envelope is everything I’ve ever worked for in my life. Everything has been leading up to this moment. This is it. Everyone’s expecting me to ace it. What if I haven’t? What if I’ve fucked up again.” He rambled, his words spilling out as if he’d been storing them up for ages. Oliver grabbed Connor’s wrist, rubbing a soothing thumb across the back of his hand. Connor stopped, looking deep into Oliver’s eyes, instantly calming. 

“Stop.” He told him firmly. “If you fail, then you take it again. And you keep taking it until you pass.” Oliver told him. “I don’t care if you pass first time, second time or the fifth time, Connor, all I care about is that you’re happy.” His lips curved into a smile. “I love you regardless.” He grabbed the envelope from the counter and held it out to Connor. “So open it.” He urged. 

Connor looked between the loving eyes of his boyfriend and the envelope. He slowly pushed it towards Oliver.

“You open it.” He mumbled, straightening up. 

“Connor, No.” Oliver argued, trying to wrestle the envelope back into Connor’s hands.

“Yes!” Connor insisted, backing away from the fight, flopping down heavily on the couch. “Just open it, and tell me?” He demanded, grabbing the nearest throw pillow and hugging it tightly to his chest rocking forwards. 

Oliver shook his head, taking a deep breath. He turned over the envelope and slowly slid his finger into the seam, tearing along the seal. His own heart began to hammer against his rib cage as he realised that actually, this mattered a lot to him too. Every night Oliver had sat up, waiting for Connor to return home. Every missed dinner reservation or family gathering. Every tired look, every stressed grunt, every time Oliver had held Connor in his arms while he broke down and released all the tension he’d been building up. Every time they’d argued about Connor working too much, and every time they’d made up a few hours later, full of guilt and regret. All of it was about to be defined by the contents of the letter in his hands. He scanned over the letter, before staring at Connor. 

The extended silence unnerved the younger man, and he looked up at Oliver, his heart dropping as he saw the tears forming in his boyfriend’s eyes. 

“I knew it.” He finally croaked, trying to put a brave face on his heartbreak. He stood up, running his fingers through his hair. “It’s fine.” He grumbled. “I’ll just try again next time, like you said?” He stepped towards Oliver, throwing his arms tightly around him. 

“You passed, Connor.” Oliver sniffed against his shoulder, not moving. Connor pulled back. 

“What?” He hissed, watching as a grin spread across Oliver’s face. Connor snatched the paper from the older man’s hands, scanning through it quickly before letting out a shriek of delight, not caring if the neighbours could hear through their paper thin walls. 

Connor threw his arms back around Oliver, lifting him effortlessly up, Oliver’s legs sliding around his waist. Connor pulled him into a deep kiss, sucking gently on his bottom lip, swinging around and siding Oliver to sit on the kitchen counter. 

“You’re such a sap.” Connor chuckled. “I love you.” He added, reaching up and wiping a stray tear from Oliver’s cheek. 

“I’m allowed to be proud of the fact my boyfriend is a genius.” Oliver giggled. “You deserve it.” He told him, stretching his arms around Connor’s neck, drawing him in closer between his legs. Connor’s hands ran lightly up and down Oliver’s sides before coming to rest on his hips, fingers gently grasping. “I’m so happy for you.” He rasped, placing a feather light kiss on the tip of his nose. 

“I mean, it’s not over yet.” Connor sighed. “I still need to get admitted to the state bar, but that’s just paperwork. He smiled. A different smile to the one Oliver was used to. A genuine smile. One where Connor didn’t seem to be masking the fact he was holding the weight of the world on his shoulders. He looked free, calm and relaxed for the first time since his first day at Law School. 

“So, this makes you quite a catch.” Oliver purred with a smirk. Connor shrugged modestly. 

“I guess? Providing work weren’t kidding when they said they’d take me on as an associate!” He grinned, not ever wanting this feeling of happiness to leave him. Oliver nodded with a slow lick of his lips, curling his fist in Connor’s vest.

“So, maybe I should think about making an honest man of you. Y’know before anyone else gets any ideas?” He suggested, voice low and husky. Connor narrowed his eyes, playfully. 

“You know I’m yours.” He smirked, lips close, eskimo kissing his boyfriend. 

“Not in the eyes of the law, you’re not.” Oliver teased, cocking an eyebrow suggestively. He reached across the counter, picking up a small blue vase. He rattled it with a smile, Connor watching his boyfriend in awe. Oliver tipped the vase upside down, a simple Titanium band falling out, studded with a tiny diamond. Connor’s breath caught in his throat. 

“Are you serious?!” He stuttered, Oliver pressing a finger to his boyfriend’s lips, silencing him. 

“Connor Patrick Walsh...” He started, with a grin wider than anything Connor had seen before, his fingers trembling around the ring. “Will you marry me?” Connor looked between the ring and Oliver’s hopeful expression, nodding his head gently. 

“Try and stop me.” He chuckled, grabbing Oliver and pulling him into a needy, lustful kiss. Oliver fumbled for Connor’s hand, sliding the ring along it until it sat snugly around his ring finger, holding his left hand, admiring just how right it looked. “How long have you been hiding that away for?” Connor beamed. Oliver blushed slightly, shrugging coyly. 

“Just a few weeks. I was biding my time.” He offered, unable to tear his eyes away from the new symbol of commitment. Connor tugged his hand away. 

“Wait.” He whispered, pulling on his middle finger and producing his class ring proudly. He pulled Oliver’s left hand out and pushed it along the older man’s ring finger. “Look at that. Perfect fit.” He drawled. “Must mean you’re the right guy.”

“Did you ever think we’d make it this far?” Oliver chuckled, jumping down from the counter. “Would you still have gone after me if you’d realised you’d be stuck with me?” He teased. Connor shook his head with a smile, pressing a soft kiss to Oliver’s neck. He lowered his voice, breath warm against his fiance’s ear. 

“I’d have done it sooner.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is FINALLY finished! I had a few ideas for little things I wanted to cover but I may come back to them at a later date as one-shots :) Thank you to everyone who's been reading and left Kudos and comments, and thanks to Blink_Blue for all the help and advice!


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